Inevitably, there’s a moment every Sunday afternoon where I have random flashbacks of the weekend past and suddenly remember saying or doing something utterly ridiculous. Something along the lines of “I carried a watermelon?“, but far more humiliating than the cutest scene in Dirty Dancing, obviously.
This moment is almost immediately followed by a full body shudder combined with equal parts remorse and embarrassment, subsequently followed by a thirty second, more or less, mind fuck.
And then insanity pursues. Because within those short bursts of time and space where I am completely and solely lost in my mind, every emotion fathomable pulses through my body, and I may as well just be dead, metaphorically speaking.
And then I vow to refrain from doing or saying whatever it was that caused me to look back and hate myself in that moment in time.
Now, chances are, nobody noticed at all… and if they did, who cares because -chances are, everybody else is primarily worrying about the foolish things they did and said… because we are human and we are ridiculous and that’s what we do and hopefully other humans {the ones we’re of course, worried about judging us for acting a fool}, whether they’re friends or acquaintances, accept this too and blow it off… if they did in fact, notice at all.
But that’s not the point. The point is, if you’re consistently trying to be a better human, one who acts according to your own “personal best”, these things feel like setbacks. And beyond anything, the thought of hurting someone’s feelings or accidentally offending someone, makes me feel like a wretched person.
And then, sometime later, probably after running the scene through my head a hundred or so more times, acceptance comes. And I have to just own my actions, laugh it off and move on.
