Your Everlasting Summer

Man, I think I’m coming down with a cold. I’ve got that hazy, burning feeling behind my eyes and sinuses. Worst of all, I don’t have sick leave – it’s called “being a new employee.” My only alternative, outside of not working and not getting paid, is to show up at work for a few hours, then go home. This will result in me being compensated for the day. I’m not a fan of getting paid a full day when I don’t work one, but what can I do? Not my fault.

Emergen-C and water has been on the diet today. I ran out of the Tangerine flavor, so I’m stuck with the Strawberry. Bland Strawberry. People who have tried it know exactly what I’m talking about.

Taking the train to work has allowed me to think even more about life’s quandaries. Recently, I consider the lives of others and how they must view themselves. For instance, there was a woman on my train this morning with four children, two of which were too young to walk. The other two in grade school. And none of them in a good mood.

I relinquished my seat for one of her little ones, as I figured a little bit of comfort would go a long way for her.

A handful of questions did cross my ever-working mind: “Was she alone? A single mother? Why isn’t anyone helping her? I wonder what she thinks about her situation. Is she depressed? Does she consider herself successful in life?”

Let’s be clear: success is relative.

A man who washes cars for a living may be very content with his life and may determine himself to be a success; while a millionaire may consider himself a failure.

But how does this woman perceive herself? I wonder about that. In my supposition, I immediately feel sorrow as I explore the thought that she’s disappointed with life. The more I thought about it, the more I became depressed this morning.

Of course, the world of psychology would tell you that it wasn’t her that was disappointed in her life, but it was actually me – I was projecting my own sadness on her. Perhaps there is some truth to that.

I’m not disappointed with my life – I’ve accomplished quite a bit and there’s pride to be found in that. I’m perhaps disappointed in some choices I’ve made, over the years, which have led to mistakes. And I don’t find a whole lot of solace in thinking: “It could be worse…” What does help me is thinking about the future and what I plan to do.

The human beings greatest asset is also our greatest curse. Our ability to rationalize and experience emotion will be our ultimate downfall. We’re far too complex an animal as a result. We know what we need, but we confuse it for what we don’t. We carefully attempt a balance between our heart and our mind, to superfluously catastrophic ends. That’s life.

So I ask myself: “Am I successful?”

My answer: “I’m doing okay.”

I’ll end the melancholy by saying: I’m going to buy some Nyquil and I hope that mother of four, this morning, got to where she needed to go.