It's an Eeyore Day

I'm in a bad mood.

The reason I'm telling you this is because I think people who follow this blog, or even check it out from time to time, might have gotten the wrong idea about me.  I surmise that most people who read this think that I'm some kind of other-worldly (perhaps delusional?) Pollyanna who is totally zen and is always full of peace, joy and happiness.  A bright-eyed girl who is chasing her dream, undaunted by it all.

Not so.

I just wanted to remind you all that I am human.  And I have my Eeyore Days.  You know, Eeyore, the grouchy, pessimistic donkey that mopes around complaining and worrying about every little thing.  The one who puts a damper on all of Pooh's fun.  Just so you know, I have my glum days, my frustrations, my nasty moods and I definitely have my "Why bother?" days.  Those days when all the hard work, early mornings, late nights and sacrifices seem in vain.

Don't get me wrong.  I still love Helen.  I'm not a love em' and leave em' kind of gal.  I just feel temporarily frustrated with her, and with the weather, and the subway system, and the woman who called me eight times at work yesterday insisting that return her call, and the fact that I have to have four jobs in order to clothe myself, sleep peacefully and eat healthy in this city, and because I can't eat bread and donuts or anything with gluten, and because I can only spend time with my niece and nephew once a month, and because someone in the building behind me is using a chain saw to cut god-knows-what at 10:30pm, and because I have 53 Dvr'd programs, 12 New Yorker magazines, 8 New York magazines and half of a Percy Jackson book that I don't have time to enjoy, and...well, I could go on.

I'm having what is technically called a "Pretty Patty Pity Party."  At least that is what my second grade teacher called it when the class complained.  Whatever it's called, I'm having one, and you're all invited!  Because I bet that if you join me, we'll all start to feel better, and before you know it, I'll stop whining and feeling sorry for myself and realize just how much I have to be grateful for, and how self-indulgent all this pity-partying is.

Huh.  I'm starting to feel better already.  And you know what?  I have to get out of this funk fast, because we've got something huge to launch in FIVE days--something that will require me to be in top form, good spirits, to have my vim and vigor back, and be ready to bust my butt again.

Stay tuned. 

And I wish you all a Pooh day tomorrow.