I woke-up feeling sad today. Not depressed. Not blue really. Not tearful. Perhaps downhearted…or melancholy might be a better word for the way I am feeling. Then I thought of Hamlet’s soliloquy: “How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable, seem to me all the uses of this world.” That’s me today.
I lifted weights with the animals. That didn’t help.
Prayed and read the Bible—no help.
Read a chapter from Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone—still melancholy.
Yoga—still down.
Tried all the posture tricks—hand on hips with legs spread, snap fingers, turn lips in upward direction, hold hands in air and give the victory sign—no joy.
Stress—not much to worry about.
Thoughts—I’m really not saying negative things to myself.
Tried to figure out my unconscious motivators—the only thing I could come-up with was the lengthening shadows signifying autumn is on the way.
Played Scrabble with Vicki—I pretended to feel happy, but the melancholy persisted.
Wrote a blog entry—seemed like duty instead of a pleasurable thing to do.
Oh well. The best I can do is to tell myself this too will pass. And it will. Tomorrow I will feel better. Melancholy of this kind is a passing thing. We all have days like this. Thankfully they usually don’t last.