I Don't Get It

I am a very smart woman.  I don’t brag about it too much. (I do like to brag about it some.  I’m egotistical in that way.) There are very few things that are presented to me that I don’t understand.  But today—not for the first time, and certainly not for the last—I was presented with something I’ll never understand:  People who want to be in a bad mood.

I don’t know if it’s really a “bad mood” per se, because these people seem to enjoy being in a bad mood—so does that make it a good mood for them? Oof. I’m confusing myself.

I have my days. I know that. I will wallow in self-pity and be miserable for a day or two. I will complain about pointless things just to make myself feel better in the moment.  Every now and then, I’ll just be grumpy, and any attempt to make me feel better will just end up making me angrier. My brother constantly reminds me of a day when walking to the bus stop at six in the morning I told him I was already having a bad day. I’m no stranger to the bad mood.

But to spend every day complaining about every little detail?  To look for the darkest parts of every situation?  Not just for a day or two, but every single day for months at a time?

Why? I just don’t get it.

To quote a rather silly comedian in a rare moment of seriousness: “You’re inventing your own misery. For fuck’s sake, try and enjoy life.”  Good point, Russell Howard, very good point.

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