In That Small, Fleeting Moment
I’ve been itching to write lately, but I can’t seem to come up with anything when I sit down to do it. Does this happen to anyone else? There a need… a longing to get something down, yet when the opportunity comes, nothing comes out. It’s not writer’s block per se, just some sort of short-circuit somewhere. It’s aggravating.
Nothing is happening with me lately. I’m still on the job hunt, having been laid off recently. I’ve filled out so many applications that I honestly can’t remember who I’ve applied to and who I haven’t, but I’ve gotten no responses save for Target, who told me to go take a hike. If I can’t get hired at Target (I applied to be a cashier, no less), then what are my chances now? I am SO depressed about this. I’m to the point where I literally don’t have any more options, and I don’t know what to do. I’m lost.
On Tuesday I traveled up to Idaho Falls to see my friends get married. It’s a horribly long drive, but it was made easier by a carpool situation that I and two other friends managed to set up. Of course, nature intervened for me and made it one of the absolute worst allergy days of the year, so I spent the entire day blowing my nose and sniffing uncontrollably. I was also drugged up to high heaven and was basically stoned the entire time on a combination of DayQuil and Claritin and Flonase. I tried really hard to act normally and be as pleasant as I could, and hopefully I pulled it off successfully to the point where not too many people noticed. That allergy attack has since worsened into a sinus infection, but the good news is that I got to witness my best friend in her happiest moment, and I wouldn’t trade that for all the allergy drugs in the world. That’s the important thing.
The defining moment for the evening (for me) wasn’t my misery, or the long drive, or the yum-licious red velvet wedding cake that was positively orgasmic. It was the point right as my friend walked down the isle with her dad accompanying her. The smile on her face told everything. She beamed more brightly than I’ve ever seen, and at that moment she was more beautiful than anything or anyone else in the world. Those are the moments that I love, and to see that kind of happiness makes everything else absolutely trivial.
In that small, fleeting moment… the world was a good place, and nothing else mattered.
Now it’s back into the fray. I sit here today, having mostly recovered from my illness (just a slight cough and some soreness), and I’m wondering what my future holds. Bills keep coming, but job offers don’t, and I’m getting depressed all over again. Reality sucks sometimes. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.
Thank you Erin, for that moment. I’ll keep it with me and remember it when I’m feeling a bit down. Best of luck and all my love to you and your new family. Be good and be happy.