Hello everybody, friends, well-wishers, wishes of wellness from lucky ponds where you throw money in them for wishes, what the hell are those called again? Wishing wells? And even people who only wish moderation. Actually ‘well’ isn’t that fucking great is it? I have never had to call up a friend to excitingly scream…
‘You’ll never believe it, I’m WELL’
And even if I ever did make that call one day I think the conversation would probably end up going along the lines of this:
‘You’ll never believe it, I’m WELL’
‘You’re well? What do you mean, are you ok? You sound upset?’
‘No I’m excited, because I am well!’
‘So are you excited or are you well?’
‘Both, I’m excited because I am well’
‘But well and excited are very, very different states of being. One is all thrilling, electrifying and high energy, and other one is relatively neutral, almost as if nothing particularly good is happing in your life or emotional state, and yet nothing particularly bad is happening either. You’re feeling fine, no sickness, injuries or ailments to worry about, and yet no particular rush of adrenalin or serotonin is present in your neurovascular system, you are reasonable, in satisfactory health and reasonable mental conditioning, and in no particular mood to neither celebrate nor seek commiseration. So which is it, are you excited or are you well?’
‘Why the fuck do you always have to ruin shit with literal interpretations of shit. Why can’t I just call you up and be happy, you fucking asshole, you’re supposed to be my friend dickhead.’
‘See now you’re demonstrating signs of hostility and yet referring to being happy, seriously buddy if you want to call me up and talk about moods, can you at least figure out which mood you want to talk about first?’
And yet we still wish people well. For shame people, and I am including myself within that definition, of things called ‘people’.
So let’s go with, hello happy-wishers! Awww, thanks for that wish, I appreciate it. This is The Best Day of My Life Proposition, the blog where I look over the day that was, for me mostly, and decide to appreciate it as if it were comfortably the best day of my life, and even if up until this moment it may not have seemed like the best day of my life, the mere act of positive reflection immediately escalates it to that very position, leaving me, and hopefully some of you, feeling delighted, optimistic, and yes even happy – the very emotion you just wished for me. Man, this blog is a self-fulfilling, and group-fulfilling prophecy of epically awesome proportions.
And yes, today was the best day of my life. For today I ate left overs for not one, nor even two, but two plus some snacking meals today, and it was awesome. I LOVE leftovers. Although to be honest I normally get most of the pleasure from them while putting them in the fridge thinking ‘that saves making or attaining food at least once tomorrow’ a sentence which can bring me all sorts of comfort and even joy. And yet then I often proceed, as soon as the very next day, to think to myself ‘I’m hungry, what should I eat… meh, I guess I’ll just have leftovers’.
Do I somehow forget the comfort and even joy that I predicted just the evening before when storing said leftovers? Yeah I think I do. Well not today motherfuckers, I reveled in leftovers, I gorged myself with them, I bathed in them, I devoured them with all the senses I could remember at the time, at least three I think, I salivated over them, which is convenient because this very saliva helped distribute the flavor around my mouth, and aided in lubricating my throat canal to allow the well chewed food morsels a safe passage to their after life, I chewed them, I teethed them, I tongued them, I luxuriated in them, and yes, uh huh, I even heated em up before eating them.
So yeah, it was a good fucking day, suck on that ‘meh’.
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