i write because i'm happier when i write. not because i'm a good writer.

-shanita john-

A pessimistic Sunday, salvaged.

Do you ever have those Sundays when you wake up far too late in the day to accomplish anything worthwhile? Those are exactly the kinds of Sundays I am used to having.

Even your multi-colored Cap’n Crunch seems downgraded to a murky green Private Chewy.

That might sound terribly wasteful, (it does even to me) but those Sundays aren’t all bad news. By losing half a day in slumber you save up on those precious calories (Woo! 789 remaining). But the downside is by the time you get moving everything seems pointless. Or dull at best. The warm sunny skies give way to a neutral weekend gray and every television station reminds you that unless you have an interest in golf or overly enthusiastic salesmen, you need not tune in. Even your multi-colored Cap’n Crunch seems downgraded to a murky green Private Chewy. The next thing you know, without your consent, its become Sunday Afternoon with Your Favorite Pessimistyou.

Yep, that was about to be ‘all she wrote’ for me today, until an unmotivated dig through a spool of unmarked CDs lead me to a rare gem. It might as well had been a musical time capsule from 2003, the year I graduated from high school.

Suddenly, instead of mindlessly populating a PHP database to the hum of my disaster-prone dishwasher, I was reliving moments from the summer I gained my independence. Musing about Commencement weekend to some poppy anthem by Vitamin C. Laughing at my apparent need to capture whatever alternative pearl Vertical Horizon was putting out at that time. All at once, there I was, warm and jovial inside a bubble of melodies, memories and seventeen year old bliss.

How bright and unexpected the moments we happen upon when content to bask in mediocrity.

Netflix killed the video store.

Presence of children at WALL-E makes for less enjoyable viewing.