Tuesday, November 14, 2006

The Day After ...

Yesterday was totally yang. Today, yin city.

I am a great procrastinator. I couldn't compete in the Procrastination Olympics because I've already turned pro. But the stupid thing about procrastination is that whatever it is you're putting off very rarely solves itself or disappears. It just sits there, arms folded, sitting on its metaphorical couch, as if to say, "Go ahead. Put me off. I'm not goin' anywhere. But, um, it's just going to get harder to deal with me when the time comes. So you really might want to get this off your plate sooner rather than later."

And still, I walk by it, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year. And I think to myself, "Yeah, I gotta deal with that." And then, later, I think to myself, "Wow, yeah, I *really* gotta deal with that." And then it's a bazillion days later, and you know what? Yeah, it's still not dealt with.

And in the meantime, I've expended so much energy fretting and contemplating and running every conceivable scenario in my head, which is utterly insane, because I'm concocting scenarios with only half of the information. I think Newton was onto something with that whole "For every action, there's an equal and opposite reaction" business. And I have no idea what the equal and opposite reaction will be.

It's all just silly. Silly, I say.

So I've been in a funk today. But a sure-fire cure for a funk is singing. It's like exercise for me. There might not be actual endorphins involved, but I focus on what I'm singing and the rest of the world melts away. Of course, it helps to sing something really plaintive, like "Who's Minding the Store?" So that's what I started with. Yeah. Jazz. Slow, smoky jazz sung just above a whisper. The low moan of a saxophone. Lazy brushes on drums.

Ooh. "One For My Baby" just came up. Wow. Talk about a plaintive song. "I'm feelin' so bad, I wish you'd make the music dreamy and sad." But I'm not feelin' so bad. Not anymore.

I wonder where the emotion goes. If I'm sad when I start singing, and singing seems to expel the sadness, where does it go? Into the ether? Does it transfer to someone else? Or does it simply morph inside? If matter is neither created nor destroyed, does the same hold true for feelings? Does sadness change to happiness? Are all feelings chemical? Are they self-contained? If I'm upset and I tell a friend about it and bring them down, did I transfer negative energy to them or does their brain produce a sensation of sadness? And it is sadness or is it sympathy?

All righty, then. Something for me to mull over. And it's time to put in a new CD.

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