Novelist Jim Harrison states “If you put all your moods in a shoebox and placed them on scale, you’d only get a reading on the shoebox.” Moods are only self indulgent emotional whims and fuel for sloth. This speaks of the excuses that people use to avoid work and movement, in hopes that in their crippled state, somebody will carry them, or let them sit around and feel sorry for themselves (Brew & Kottler).
As somebody who has as much mood swings as a woman with FSH/LH/estrogen cycles on full swing, I feel somewhat dumbfounded on a literal manifestation of what I had known all along. To understand it is one thing, but to have it affirmed by a third party makes it that more damning. I can pull a 180 from something as simple as a statement. As noted before, I work hard to maintain myself in a professional environment. Unfortunately the same can not be said about my personal life. I’m not even sure how I can reduce my deposition to suddenly mope and listen to Johnny’s cover of “Hurt”. I mean its one thing to be aware that a change in mood is counterproductive to my self efficacy, but its another to have self pity conditioned to mere words. What does this mean? It means I have to stop being a bitch and pick myself off the ground. I can’t lie supine in idle and let my life fly past. Or you know I could, and increase the longevity of my Nexopia profile (I don’t have one thank goodness). Of course I might be over critical of my own faults, but I would rather be over than under analytical (for fear of missing an unturned stone). Or you know, maybe I should just stop reading myself right now. Oh my.