Right now there's a rat scratching somewhere in the fireplace's flue. My son is wheezing in his bed. My daughter sleeps, exhausted by her crippling social shyness/paranoia. My joints ache. Nevertheless, I keep trying to find the bright side of everything. Today, I realized that this trying to find the bright side of everything is so Pollyanna of me. I was talking to a new friend, and she mentioned ordering books on Amazon.com, which reminded me of a book I want to order about living gluten-free, which I want to read in my quest to become more healthy, due to my poor health over the past year, including my brain hemorrhage after Diego was born. Off the cuff and enveloped in my response to her comment about Amazon, I mentioned the hemorrhage to her. As in, "did I tell you I had a brain hemorrhage a few months ago?" Like I was asking, "did I tell you I tried this new yellow squash yesterday?"
She seemed aghast by the information, appropriately.
I keep believing that it's no big deal that I had a brain hemorrhage. And because I'm alive and (relatively) well, I suppose it isn't a big deal. Nevertheless, I don't know what the fuck my problem is that I keep trying to see the bright side of a brain hemorrhage.
I even had this idea that I could write a book called THE BRIGHT SIDE OF A BRAIN HEMORRHAGE. It could be my book that makes me a million dollars, and furthermore I will get paid bookoo to travel all over the world giving lectures about my enlightening experiences. The cover art of THE BRIGHT SIDE OF A BRAIN HEMORRHAGE could be one of those classic smiley faces, the yellow button face with two black dots for eyes and the smile, only this smiley face would have a droop on one side of its mouth.
Oh HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. It's all so funny and interesting.
But the fact remains that I could have died, and ultimately this is not only a laughing matter (gallows humor and all), it is also a serious matter. However, it's hard for me to stare into that darkness for too long, because what's the point? There's nothing to see. It's dark. What else can I be but positive and grateful and wildly optimistic about everything? Even though the rat keeps scratching, Diego is still wheezing, Clara continues collapsing in public places when someone says hello to her.