Some days feel like you’re wading through mud. No matter how many steps you take, you just keep sinking deeper and getting messier. There must have been a monsoon yesterday, because I was surrounded. By the afternoon, I was filled to the brim with mud and its weight was pulling me into the earth. I felt like maybe I should just settle in, since I was mostly sludge by 4pm. It was time to search for my fellow mud people and live among them.
I believe in respecting these moments, so I let it be. I indulged in too many cookies and watched 90s tv on my couch. Isn’t that what everyone does on an emotionally disastrous day? To those of you who challenge your golems (the folklore creatures made of mud, not the ring-obsessed riverfolk from Lord of the Rings) head on, bravo. I like to take mine down from the side. Or sneak up behind them while they aren’t looking, after I’ve had ample time to weigh my options. And by weigh my options, I mean eat snacks and run through anxiety-inducing situations over and over in my head.
It wasn’t my first muddy day and it won’t be my last. Tonight I will write a list of things that make me happy. I will get my groove back and keep my chin up and stop worrying my pretty little head over important grown-up matters. I will get to the gym and smile at people I see in my office. I’ll probably even eat something green.