Jeremy's Ramblings, Babblings, and Other Pretentious Bullshit.
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Are there other people out there who get post-anxietal euphoria? That's my sounds-like-an-official-term term for a feeling of an unmotivated happiness proceeding a motivated bout of anger, exhaustion and/or depression. In the case of yesterday, I was feeling all three, and as if to compensate for my previously foul mood, my demeanor today is more happy-go-lucky on the level of a Cockney bum in an English musical.

I found out on Sunday that my great uncle died. The news was surprising, but not really shocking, if that makes any sense. He had been having trouble throughout the past year, but I did not expect his passing to be this soon. He was a really cool guy, and refreshingly low bullshit. If your joke wasn't funny, he wouldn't laugh at it, which made it all the more satisfying when he would laugh. He was easy-going, good-natured and always a joy to be around.

The news of his passing made me unhappy, to be sure. But more than that, it made me frustrated at myself. Everyone else that I was talking to was sounding like one does when a close member of the family has died. And yet, I felt I was only affected mainly because everyone else around me was. Is that heartless of me? Can I possibly justify it by saying that it's simply because I was told of his passing, and that if I had actually been there it would have affected me more?

I can't pinpoint the last time I cried, but I know that it no less than four years ago. The last time that I cried over someone dying was in high school, while attending the funeral of one of my dance teachers (who died in a car accident in her early twenties), and I attribute that mostly to the secret crush that I had on her.

These thoughts came swarming back to me yesterday, and made me feel less than human. Like a zombie, or a robot, possibly a zombie robot (also known as a "zombot"). If the passing of a relative doesn't fill me with sadness, I don't know what will (other than the notion that I never get filled with sadness anymore).

This came at the same time as my mounting frustrations at work (Slow computer + outsourcing of work to India + co-workers who stupidly think that I'm somehow famous = Crumpled soda cans in my trash bin), the exhaustion of working on three shows at the same time (with a few other projects sitting around, coughing politely) and the fact that, through circumstances out of my control, I hadn't been able to shower in 48 hours. Needless to say, I was not in the best of moods.

But this morning, I woke up feeling refreshed. I showered thoroughly, as two days of stink is hard to scrub off (that's a good name for a book. "Two Days of Stink"), and contently drove to work, bouncing my head to the sound of the incredible band The Arcade Fire blaring through my car speakers. I looked at the goals that I need to achieve for my theatrical projects (review lines for "Land Southward", listen to songs for "Rocky Horror Show", rewrite music for "Marat/Sade" and submit "Orange Alert" to South Coast Rep), and realized I am able to achieve these goals with minimal stress. Maybe I should continue my exhausted, bitter mood, but I just can't. I'm truly in a good mood.

That's post-anxietal euphoria. It's my mini-rehab from my mini-breakdowns, and its me at my best.

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