I've Never Been too Good at Change

I got to work today and let my purse slump off my shoulder onto my desk and began the ritual of switching on all the lights, pink ones I'd bought myself and the florescent ones beneath the shelves. I sat down and looked at my work from beneath my fake bangs and blew them upwards with a heavy sigh.

Could I turn around and feign a headache? Say my snap on hair was too tight? It was such a beautiful day outside. I could drive home with the windows open and then sit on my porch in the sun beside my dying flowers and perhaps encourage them to live when I set down my Kindle in my lap. I'm reading "Buddah's Brain." The neuroscience of being happy. I know it's supposed to be encouraging, but it's basically saying that your brain is wired beyond your control, and all you can do about it is revel in the present and the positive.

I teared up all day today listening to a White Lies song that came up on my mixed radio on Last.Fm this morning as I blow dried my hair. I switched off the dryer and stood in the bathroom doorway listening to the lyrics:

Then I played it at work just to feel something, I guess. I stopped long enough to email my friend in the building and ask if she wanted to walk up to Burger King for lunch. She did. It was pleasant. I tried to remind myself as much.