Pulp

oranges

Something especially exciting happened yesterday and something particularly upsetting happened today. This post is really about neither of those things.

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I sometimes mock friends who continually look at the dark side of life. When some great event happens they become extra paranoid that something terrible is coming their way.  Most of the time, their world remains in tact, but the few instances in which something goes awry they are prepared. Armed with a smug smile, and an unhealthy dose of cynicism, they tell me they knew it all along. The world is out to get them. I don’t agree with this faulty logic, but on days like today I completely understand the need for this level of insulation.

When something especially nice happens to me, I see rainbows and butterflies. I thank my lucky stars, skip through streets, and give out free hugs. I welcome the urge to feel like a child on Christmas. Part of me thinks that’s what life is about, being able to handle more knowledge and responsibility while protecting that portion of you that’s still a kid. I refuse to give it up.

But I won’t lie. It does suck when something unexpectedly douche-y comes my way, and pisses on my cloud parade. This morning I was all smiles. I had a romantic vision of a glorious day that was supposed to start off with a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice, but it never came. Now it’s midday and some of that romance has dissolved.

The kid in me is too distracted to care. I should be outside playing ninja instead of sulking in disillusion. It’s a bit cloudy, but still a nice day and there are plenty of juice bars in NYC. Even if the apocalypse rains down on me the second I take my first sip, at least I’ll go down on my terms.

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