January began well. OK, maybe not the very first few days; they started out with a sinus infection. But in general, the first few weeks of the year were filled with a rediscovered enthusiasm for life and the world around me. I was walking around in love with everything, exuding this unadulterated happiness. Realistic about my general situation in life and the challenges I was facing, and yet undaunted.
Then the thing with the foot happened. The first wave wasn't enough to drag me back down to my usual place of dwindling hope and latent anger. The second wave, sadly, was.
But now that I seem to be coming out of it, healing I guess maybe or just becoming less inflamed, my brain is again unclouding. I'm feeling the joy once more. People, I like the joy. I want the joy. I'm a joy glutton.
The past week has been insane, with the trials and tribulations of doctors and x-rays and mysterious injuries, combined with near-terminating relationship problems. But sometimes the only way out is through. Last night, coming to what I believe to be the final moments of that tumultuous week, my nerves were all jangly. So I laid my head in my man's lap, and he stroked my hair and told me it was gonna be alright. And you know what? It is.
This morning on my way to work, the world was beautiful. As my train pulled into Queensboro Plaza alongside a 7 train, the tracks swinging together in a graceful arc fifty feet above the morning traffic, Lykke Li provided the perfect soundtrack - as if I were living inside of a movie. A uniquely beautiful movie - a vision of New York the way I see it, New York through my mind. A movie that I want to keep watching: I need to see how it turns out.