The Happy Camper

 Right now I am wearing my springhill camp happy camper shirt.  This seemed somewhat ridiculous when I put it on but why not, it’s a comfy available option.  It’s not the t-shirt that is inappropriate but the message as I feel nor look anything like a happy camper.  It’s like the equivalent of seeing a environmentalist driving an hummer, they look they are betraying themselves.  My t-shirt betrays me, its laughable, but enough about the t-shirt.   

I moving through the ends and beginnings of my life.  I am rolling with the punches.  I am all the optimistic turns of phrase your grandma used to encourage you during your adolescence.  I’m keeping my chin up (there’s another one for ya) because it’s realistically the only option.
Yesterday I wanted to go greek and break plates.  I only have six left I might as well finally put an end to what used to be a full set of fabulous turquoise crate and barrel dishes.  Yesterday I wanted to writhe in pain, turn back the clock, change things, drink wine or microbrewed beer with my friends and revel in the comfort that they would have with my raw self, my tears, and my ridiculous pessimism.  We would eat luxurious food in a dimly lit spot and laugh and cry about families and pets and new zip codes.  This is just not meant to be, last night was lonely, but it felt like a soft hoodie for my soul.
So it’s all changing and some great stuff is ending, but some more great stuff is just beginning and i am trying to (insert your clever platitude here)
life is beautiful, and don’t let me forget it, so when you see me encourage me, remind me of the good, the upcoming and the exciting.
Thanks in advance.