Yes, on most mornings, if forced to review my life and say thank you, I can turn a foul mood around. But the serenity may not last. Eventually I have to go on with the day. In my case that means driving in L.A. traffic, which is enough to make me hate my fellow citizen, until I remember to breathe, and be grateful for paved roads. And that’s how my system works. One minute grouchy, the next minute full of appreciation. A recent root canal was the ultimate test.
There are the opposite times, when I start off buoyant, and get ambushed by an “unmarried booby trap” and have to claw my way back.
Last night was a perfect example. Before heading out to dinner at a favorite restaurant [1], I noticed among my email, a “save the date” announcement for a wedding shower of a family friend. (This points to a good rule: Don’t check email unless you’re okay with altering your happy mood). For the obvious reason, I’m not a fan of weddings–though love is always good to celebrate and find vicarious thrill in–and even less so, bridal showers. I picture women crammed onto sofas, ogling obscene lingerie and crock pots. It’s a throwback to an era when we were virgins and soon-to-be domestic goddesses needing the generosity of others to supply our first set of cookware. (Seriously, though, I could use a new Cuisinart.)
I’ve been working on how best to send my regrets. Isn’t there some meeting or social event I must go to, or a haircut with that overbooked stylist that’s been on the calendar for months. Is it possible to just say no, by brazenly admitting that wedding showers make me feel bad?
We all know that I will attend this anachronistic rite. I will make it pleasurable, or at least a teachable moment. Maybe the food will be good, though the bride is practically a vegan. My hope is, if I can turn a root canal into a positive experience, why not a joyous occasion of a loved one.