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…it’s just a bluuuuuue kind of day.  Not only because I woke up all stressed after having dreams that I was floating down a rocky river (did I mention that there were holes where you could DROWN) with no raft or anything (which was probably caused by the extreme anxiety I had last night from another existential crisis sparked by feeling like I’m just meant for more and not knowing where I’m going next), and I rolled my cankle causing me to take a big step to recover and fly face first into my rental car (go ahead and laugh, it looked pretty funny), and THEN I got lost on the way to the airport causing me to miss the flight that I wanted to standby on – leaving me sitting in the tiniest of Minneapolis terminals with only a smelly place called “Fisherman’s Warf” to eat lunch (i hate fish.)  And, sometimes I wonder if this open heart business is just fucking stupid, but I feel like it’s the best way to live so….I don’t know (and I’ll probably continue it anyway, maybe I need to try harder).  So now I’m sitting in an uncomf chair in Terminal 2 at Minneapolis St Paul International Airport, listening to strangers having awkward conversations and hoping that my cankle didn’t get hurt again (I think it’s ok.).

Sometimes the universe takes back control and forces you to just let the current carry you.  (My loss of control came in the form of an ankle roll and smashing into my sexy, sexy rental Charger.)   

Even if none of that had happened, it would still just be a blue kind of day. It’s just a…calm, blue day.  When I was younger, I took days like this as signifiers that my life sucks. They would throw me deeper into depression.  This kind of thought comes with the assumption that you have to be happy all of the time.  I’m not that naive anymore.  I know that some of the best days and best poetry come from blue, and nothing is controllable.

My favorite thing about airplanes is that you can’t control a thing.  You’re just there for the ride.  I think I’ve said that before. Those are my favorite times in life.   I’m an over-analyzer. (not to be confused with ANALyst. ha) I just think all of the time.  I analyze the SHIT out of things.  But, like my cute little picture above says, the most beautiful times of my life were when I felt instead of thought.  This is where life lives, for me at least.

Ok.  I’m done rambling. Now I’m going to apply for new jobs and watch scenes from the movie Take Me Home Tonight (watched it last week and had a dream that I was making out with Topher Grace.  OH. BABY.  WITHOUT THINKING.  See? the best things happen through feeling, not thinking. boom.)

Until next time, my lovely blogfriends.