I woke up, ate breakfast, went grocery shopping, ate lunch, sat at the computer, ate supper, watched television, went to sleep.
I awoke to near darkness, the clouds looming over the day ahead. Eggs again, how boring, how typical, how me. It’s cold, bitterly so, but I need food, so off to that cesspool, the supermarket. These carrots are soft, a metaphor for my life, limp and feckless. Ugh, long lines at the checkout, will anything go right today? Home, although it doesn’t feel like it, just walls and a roof, so empty. Another tasteless lunch. Computer is acting up, great. Maybe a treat tonight, some pizza, oh yeah, I can’t afford it. Nothing is on television, so lame. I can’t sleep again, I guess I don’t even have enough energy to sleep.
Dark? At this time? I hope it snows today! Ah, eggs, my delightful little friends, good morning to you! Such a brisk day, my cheeks are rosy! Ha, there’s my breath! Supermarket, supermarket, supermarket: Yeah! Not today little carrots! I’ll be getting some crisp cabbage! Ooh long lines, now I can check out the tabloids! Hehe! And here we go, time for lunch, my midday nourishment. Uh-oh computer, it looks like I have some troubleshooting to do: the mystery is afoot! Supper time, and time to try out my new cabbage recipe. Lucky you, little book, the TV says we’ll be spending the evening together. Hmm, not sleepy yet? Ha, this book must be too good!
We see our lives as embellished narratives, not a series of facts. And this is fine as long as we realize the fanciful nature of these tales and derive some enjoyment from them. But telling ourselves dark tales of futility is a condition in need of improvement. And it’s not the facts that typically need changing, it’s the embellishments.