The Happy Blues

Earlier today I was watching Comedians riding in cars getting coffee and so I thought to myself, “what a great idea!”  And so here I am sitting in Cheshire Coffee drinking an iced decaf latte.

I haven’t done this in forever.  The last time I sat at a coffee house was to do my taxes.

Dave Chapelle was vaping his electronic cigarette in the coffee shop all through-out his chat with Jerry.  He made it look natural and necessary.  But if I did that, I’d get bitch slapped.  Not only by the patrons but by my close friends too.

So instead I sneak tokes of it in the bathroom like some crack addict but no, not Chapelle.   Some people have everything.

I guess I should write a little update on my life whist I’m here…..

Okay, I’m just going to come right out and say it.  My life is fucking fantastic.  Fucking fantastic!

Here it is, a beautiful summer day in July – noon on a random Tuesday and as always, I’ve got nothin’ to do.  I don’t have to work.  I don’t have to do a damn thing!  If I do show my face at work, everyone asks me, “Melanie, what the hell are you doing here?”

It takes a while getting used to.  Normally I would lay in bed, order take-out and either watch a bunch of Netflix movies or play my video game.  It takes a while to actually want to venture out.  Even just to the coffee house.  It’s like I caught a small agoraphobic virus or something of the sorts.  Plus I can’t vape in here.

The thing with being happy is that I get dumb.  Really really stupid.  It’s like when you’re in a dark room for a very long time and you’re just emerging from it, the bright light is too much for you – all you can think about and see is the brightness of the light.  It makes you confused, unable to make out your surroundings or the situation.  You kind of just want to crawl back inside your hole so you can see better.

That’s me right now.  Wanting to crawl back into my hole.  I’m fidgety, yawny, I want to eat and drink and vape and do anything to make myself feel more like when I’m in my hole and not in the great big world of relentless wonder in which I find myself in – with time and money to spare!

It’s too much and I’m not big enough to get a handle on it.

I hate happy people.  I hate them because I think they’re all full of shit – ain’t nobody that happy.  Not ever.  I hate liars and fake people and happy people are both of those things. I want to punch them until they snap out of it.  “No you’re wrong!  Your life sucks just as bad as the rest of us!”

Unless they are stupid, then it’s okay to be happy.  I actually love hanging out with stupid happy people.

There ARE exceptions….like when a person accomplishes something.  If they get awarded or recognized.  When they tell you why they’re so happy, they do it with a proud embarrassed smile on their face while shaking their head in disbelief.  THOSE people are real and not liars.  They’ve got a reason.

The thing with me is….I don’t trust being happy.  It makes me stupid and uncomfortable and even socially awkward when I’m happy.

Why am I happy?  I’m about to buy my electric bicycle.  I haven’t done it yet….I’m prolonging it.  It’s like, I’m happy in knowing that I will buy it any minute but then after I buy it – like a second after I buy it, I’ll be broke again with buyers remorse.  I might even be depressed.

Okay, screw it.  I’m buying it.

I need to take my Bar Harbor trip this year because it’s a pre-cursor to my cross-country adventure next year.  I’ll be getting my feet wet with this Bar Harbor adventure.  I HAVE to buy it and this is the perfect time to do it.  It’s literally a life-long dream of mine.

I just bought it.  Oh god oh god oh god.  What have I done!?  Shit.

They build, test, and inspect the bike in California so it takes a good 2-3 weeks until they actually ship it to me.  By the time I get it, I’ll be able to take my Bar Harbor trip.

I always have to make myself uncomfortable somehow, it’s part of my habit of wanting to crawl back into my hole.  And I found that by spending money – like practically ALL of my money, is the fastest, easiest way to achieve misery.  Not only misery, but absolute terror.  The kind that sends pings of pain to your chest.

I’m embellishing.  I’m actually okay financially – really okay even after this.  And if I’m not okay, all I have to do is sell 40 signature couples massages on groupon and I’m good to go.  It’s just that big unnecessary purchases always make me cringe.  As they rightfully should, or I’d be in deep shit.  I’m not a rich person.

Anyway, I accomplished what I came here to do so now maybe I’ll rollerblade a bit before my pool league.  I’m feeling less happy now that I spent money on that bike so hopefully I’ll stop being so god-dammed dumb.

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