the things only you were supposed to know about.

that were special.

the secret reason to our smile.

and now they are shared with somebody else, like they were never yours.

there are some songs i will never again sing.

some poems i will never again read.

because they were a secret.

our secret.

but they have been shared.

and i am left sad.

It is absolutely mind over matter, the matter being emotion. Bad days happen, they really do. Believe me, I understand. Life is hard these days, and stressful, and I find that people (including myself) are easily overwhelmed by the day-to-day pressures of life. That overwhelmedness often manifests in what I call the crankies, which is clinically defined by me as a general bad mood with symptoms including snide remarks, selfish behavior, and unpleasant countenance. I’m struck, though, that spreading around the crankies to everyone who comes in my near vicinity is only going to compound the epidemic that bad days already are. Someone has to choose to stop spreading the germs – to wash their hands and have done with it. This week I found myself constantly in situations where I didn’t have a choice but to change my attitude. Work. Family. None of those people deserve having me pawn my negativity off on them unawares. I’m not saying I went from gloomy skies to all rainbows and unicorns, but there is much more at stake than I’m willing to risk losing just because of a bad case of the crankies.

I found this week that the more I stopped to think and choose my attitude’s response to things, the easier it became to have a good outward response. I still cried a lot this week, but I also know that I did my best not to weigh the wrong people down with my concerns. The right people heard all about them, and helped me work through things. Everyone else still got a smile, and a please, and a thank you.

My point in pausing to share all this is, if nothing else, to make you think about your cranky days. How are you on those days to the people around you? Do you suddenly turn into a diva? The Grinch? Or a 2-year-old demanding attention by throwing a tantrum? Have you ever stopped to think about who you’re affecting with your crankies? How you express them? Who you express them to? Do you have any strategy in dealing with a bad day? I suggest you formulate one. I have – and a lot of the time, it really helps. My day on the inside may not improve a great deal, but my day on the outside does a 180º. Which, by the way, generally means my day on the inside starts to get better, too. Just think about it. And try not to ever have such a bad day that you can’t reasonably remember that you really do have the ability to choose your attitude, and that you really can rise to the occasion and choose to genuinely smile and care about others even when all you want to do is care about yourself.

Some days that’s a very depressing thought.

But other days it’s very relieving.

Because it means there’s not so much pressure. Only that I try my best every day, and see where God takes me on this journey that is my life. The real success comes in loving and honoring Him every step of the way.

So I guess that’s it, then. Love the Lord my God with all my heart, mind, soul, and strength. And leave the rest up to Him.

My name is Sarah Thomas, and I am recently twenty-two and despondent about it because I am now officially Old with nothing to look forward to except driving a rental car at twenty-five, getting gray hair at forty, and dentures when I’m fifty.

I dream of writing, but work all day with numbers.

I would really rather stay at home in my pajamas for weeks at a time and never see anyone, but instead I spend the majority of my days inescapably surrounded by people.

My dreams and I live inside a cardboard box with holes poked in it for air, but it’s barely enough to survive on.

My world has become far too small for my liking.

And I don’t know what to do about it.

My limits have become money and practicality.

I have turned into a realist while everything in me screams against it.

I don’t even remember what the sky looks like outside this closed cardboard box I’m in.

The music has stopped.

The words have dried up.

The colors are faded.

And I am no longer who I used to be.

Last you looked it was nighttime,
And you closed your eyes in a storm;
Open them now to the sunlight
On this glorious summer morn.

I sang away all your troubles and fears,
I sang them away while you slept;
Wake up, my love, to this music,
The music I wrote while you dreamt.

She sat down with her warm mug and sipped the foam slowly, looking at the rain outside the window by her table. How many times, how many times… The speakers played their favorite song, and sitting alone was unbearably sad in the face of so many happy people, with the solace only of the drizzling rain. So many times, so many times… There was something almost sacred about a coffee shop that she no longer felt like she was invited to be a part of. Not since then. And she missed it. She missed feeling a part of the life and flow, of the love and laughter. She did not even have books and homework to keep her company anymore. She had only herself, only her thoughts, only her memories. It felt like she was a priest who could no longer keep faith, no matter how hard he might try, and ends by having a jealous respect for those who can maintain it.

Once or twice, men obviously under the influence of the coffee shop air, looked over at her and smiled invitingly while waiting for the beverage. Cynical, she only looked away again and out her window at her rain. Silly fools, the didn’t yet know that the magic couldn’t last much longer than the warmth of their americano. She finished her coffee and placed it in the black bin alongside so many others. Her heart ached, empty, longing to give anything for something she had given away, wishing the magic could work again. But this was no longer for her, no longer her safe haven to hide away in. She walked outside, still holding herself with crossed arms, into the rain.

If I ruled the world,
Every day would be the first day of spring.
Every heart would have a new song to sing,
And we’d sing of the joy every morning would bring.

If I ruled the world,
Every man would be as free as a bird.
Every voice would be a voice to be heard,
Take my word we would treasure each day that occurred.

My world would be a beautiful place
Where we would weave such wonderful dreams.
My world would wear a smile on it’s face,
Like the man on the moon has, when the moon beams.

If I ruled the world,
Every man would see the world was his friend.
There’d be happiness that no man could end,
No my friend, not if I ruled the world.

Every hand would be held up high,
There’d be sunshine in everyone’s sky.
If the day ever dawned,
When I rule the world.

Every hand would be held up high,
There’d be shine in everyones sky.
If the day ever dawned,
When I rule the world.
Jamie Cullum

Too bad we can’t all have our cake and eat it, too…