Bartenders give back your tips: “Cab fare, buddy,” they say and you
would like for them to mean it but your secret sober heart knows,
it knows that really, they’re just scared your luck
would slide off the greasy bill and take on life as an infection,
the bastards are quick to wipe down the counters in your wake.
In what constitutes a complete departure from our regular programming, here is a graphic that made me smile today.Anything that alters this somber mood is always welcome. Could it be that pop of yellow that’s so uplifting? No? Could be the premise that you can turn any situation into an advantage, if you do not dwell on the negative. Maybe so.
Mostly though, I think it is the promise of a drink that made my heart beat just a little bit faster.
I thought I’d just jump in and get back on the blog horse, after quite a dry spell. That explains the picture here. I was wishing for a drink, and that night, my wish came true.
A friend took me to the San Miguel Octoberfest launch, and the onslaught of rock music, alcohol, and people out to have a good time seemed to trigger a response in me. I had been in a tepid, debilitating, lowest-slung depression for months. I was plodding along with my eyes glazed over, going through the motions. It was not very sad, just exhausting. It felt like a desert spread out inside of me, covering every inch, eating through bone, leaving only dust. Outwardly however, I appeared the same. And testament to my ability to morph and blend in with the herd, no one noticed.
I think I’m coming out of it now, though. Perhaps contact from long-lost friends helped, or maybe the oblivious jollity of new ones shook me out of it. Slowly, I’m finding the resolve to come away from that dark, dark place that swallowed me whole, and yet felt the safest. Rising from these slumps always feels like moving through traffic, gel-like, in slow-motion. But, I am moving now, and for the most part, that’s all that matters.