4:30 pm. It's Monday and it's raining. I've just returned from the gym and I'm soaking wet. Well, not taking an umbrella can do that. As I am drying my hair, I'm contemplating what words to string together.... I'm writing this entry to let you know that I am ... happy. But you may ask, "What's so special about feeling happy? Is it that, Jake, you are an unhappy person and are you, Jake, trying to tell us that feeling an emotion counter to your nature is momentous?" And my reply is, no, there's nothing special about my feeling happy, and no, I am generally a contented individual, so please excuse the banality of my human experience.
You see, the remarkable aspect of my current mood is that, well, generally on days like this, I'm in the foulest of moods, because I hate Mondays and I loathe rainy days; thus naturally the aggregate product of hating and loathing should equal, "I abhor rainy Mondays." The sages of Bangles were correct to wistfully wish for a Sunday, "'cause that's [their] fun-day, an I-don't-have-to-run day." I, too, like the Bangles desire above all for a fun-day in Monday's stead. Like they say, (whoever they may be,) weather can influence one's mood; and rainy days impact me negatively, I want nothing but to remain in my bed with the T.V. turned on and vegetate to oblivion. But today, I had the urge to move!
Move, I did. I made my way to the gym and, besides pumping iron, I pumped my brain to release a heavy load of endorphins. Maybe it was this natural high that made me feel so goo-oo-oo-oo-ood. I walked home in the rain, letting the cool rain drops drench me, the rain drops that beckoned the earth below to awaken from its winter slumber, that contained the promise of new life, that heralded Spring! Even the air of polluted NYC seemed saturated with the earthy, verdant fragrance. The naked tree branches and the rows of bushes swayed and danced in celebration of the impending resurrection. And I joined in. So yes, I am happy.
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