Sorry about last night. As I've mentioned before, there are some nights where it's a bad idea for me to type out the thoughts I have in my head, where being honest and open will do more harm than good, both for me and for anyone unfortunate enough to read my ramblings. When I got home from rehearsal last night, I was not in a good place. So rather than subject people to my thoughts, I broke my Lenten promise (again!) and took the night off. I think everyone is better off for it.
But now, with some distance between myself and those thoughts, I think it might help me sort out what I was feeling by typing it up. I was driving home, listening to my iPod on shuffle, when "The Luckiest" by Ben Folds came on the radio. I love this song and had been thinking of it this past week, basically along the lines of I should listen to more Ben Folds. So with the wind whipping through the sunroof, the song played and I realized I couldn't imagine ever singing the song to anyone. Or having anyone sing the song to me. This wasn't a simple failure of imagination. It was the sense that I didn't believe in the possibility of love ever occurring in my life again.
As you might imagine, it made me a little sad. Crushed, actually. This isn't totally new - I've had thoughts like that float through the transom of my mind before. But last night was one of the first time when it felt real, like this was a living, breathing possibility, enough that now, 24 hours later, I'm still having difficulty convincing myself it's not true. I mean, looking at my age, my lifestyle, my past relationships, it's hard to argue that the odds aren't against me. It's not like I'm suddenly going to become good at dating or not have the worst timing in the history of the world.
I wonder if maybe I need to run with this feeling. Maybe if I realize no hope remains, I'll be able to focus my energy on those things I am able to accomplish instead of wishing for something I'm in all likelihood never going to have. It's like the old Steve Taylor song: "Since I Gave Up Hope I Feel a Lot Better." Yes, I realize he was singing against that idea, but maybe there's some truth to it in this instance.
I don't share this so people will try and tell me it's not true. Or feel sorry for me. Or tell me to quit my whining. Or even tell me I'm probably right. It's been on my mind and that's why I share. Unfortunately, it hasn't done what I'd hoped, which is to help me understand it. But it has helped me to clarify some of the things I need to think about, pray about.
Over half way through OGT Week. Hasn't been horrible, which is probably all I can ask for. I'm glad my lesson plans worked so well - lots of self-directed time for the students, which with the wacky schedule works great. I did make one mistake, however: I allowed my fourth bell to choose which movie they'd like to watch (before you go casting stones, know that I have my fourth bell twice as long as my other bells and I refuse to give them busy work or get ahead of my other classes). They chose Hotrod. It's like almost every other SNL-related movie I've ever seen. Might have been funny as a five minute sketch, but not as an 87 minutes movie. Luckily, it will be over after about 20 minutes tomorrow, which means we can watch something else. From now on, I'm only letting them choose movies from my collection - that way at least I'll know I'll like them.
Speaking of movies, I watched Gone Baby Gone this afternoon. Liked it more than I anticipated. Who knew Ben Affleck could direct? Lots of good performances and a story that left you torn on how you wanted it to end. Need to return it tomorrow if I hope to get another movie by the weekend, but might try and watch the commentary if I can.
Time for sleep. Here's hoping I don't wake myself up over and over again like I did last night. You know it's bad when your moaning wakes you up. Happy St. Patrick's Day!
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