"It's Just One of Those Days"

*I actually wrote this a couple of weeks ago, but never published it. It was just an exercise for me. However, as I was skimming the posts in "Ramblings" today, I saw it and figured, "What the heck? Throw it out there." So, here it is.

There is a song by the group Limp Bizkit [sic] titled "Break Stuff". It may contain a salty word or two (or more), and it is definitely not appropriate for younger audiences. The song gained widespread fame when the band performed it at Woodstock 99, prompting the crowd to dump over porta-potties and burn vendors' booths. For some reason, they also used the area running downhill away from the landing where hundreds of those porta-potties had once stood as a giant slip and slide, which reveals something about the attendees of the festival. The scene, broadcast far and wide on MTV, lacked the"peace and love" vibe that Woodstock usually stirs up in the mind.

So, while am I informing you of the existence of this little nugget of music fool's gold? While it is not what most would term musically redeeming, the song has a clear and concise message: some days are just not very good, and in the end, you just want to break stuff. Or scream. Or lift. Or write. Something. Anything to get the cloud to dissipate. As the the song says, "It's just one of those days."

I feel that way today. I am not sure why, but I started to feel that way last night, before I went to bed, and I felt that cloud pressing on my when I woke up at 1:30 am, and even more so at 5. It has ridden on me through the day. Emily must have sensed something because she has visited my room more often today than usual. She has always been that one, the one who picks up on this type of thing and feels drawn to do something. She is the one, when she was little,  who would, for no apparent reason, put down her toys and walk over to you and give you a hug, usually when you needed it most, and then just go back to playing. Job well done. Dylan, well, I think he still knows I live in the house. He always thanks me when I cook. He's become a teenager.

But I digress. Anyway that state of mind is where I am today, and I do not like it. It is counter-productive and generally, well, yucky. So, I worked out, lifted a little, hit the abs. Got my pump on, as they say. That did help a little. The other day, while I was driving home, "Hey, Ya!" by Outkast came on the radio. It is nearly impossible to be in a bad mood after blaring that song loudly as you cruise on down the road.

No such luck on this gray afternoon. Just Lorde, commercials, Lorde again. So, now I write. And it is helping. So, between Em, the weightroom, and rambling here (plus looking up "Hey, Ya!" on youtube), the skies seem to be clearing. After all, in the grand scheme of things, I have it pretty good.
That is what I have to remember. In the end, it's just one of those days.