This is usually the time of the weekend when I get in one of two mood: pre-Monday blue, or pre-Monday manic. Both are a response to the same thing: the end of the usually busy but ultimately understructured and fun weekend, and the beginning of the busy and much more structured and much less fun workweek.
Which means another five nights without enough sleep. And another 7 or so Double Gulps, give or take. And at least another dozen opportunities to say "Sorry I'm late" as I dash into another meeting.
Why am I always late? There are a number of less than flattering reasons, that, if I remember correctly from the story one of my colleagues wrote, pretty much boil down to selfishness.
I will be late to work tomorrow, but not late in what is for me the typical sense. I'm working the late shift, starting at around 4 and going until midnightish. It's 'cause of the Golden Globes. Otherwise, I'd not be working at all, as it's Martin Luther King Day.
Our pastor choked up today as he closed out the service with talk of King and justice and all that should be. He also talked about Supreme Court nominee Alito, to whom nothing seems to stick. How many church services have positive messages about a woman's right to choose? Probably about as many as welcome the gays. Our church is a two-fer. I also wonder how many churches have pictures of Dr. King up with nearly as prominence as those of Jesus. Ours does, and it always seemed right to me. I wish we had more people of color actually attending our church, but it's a start. Heard last week about how a friend ran into someone who doesn't consider King day a holiday worth noting. It's a head-shaker. Even when I walked through the valley of ignorance, I never thought King deserved anything less than holiday-type honors. Now that I've reached the hillock of knowing enough to be dangerous, I'll say that it should be truly celebrated. You know, with days off for all, with appliance sales, without people feeling like it's OK for them to pop off about how little they think King deserves presidential-type honors. The guy should be on a hundred-dollar bill, not just serving as the namesake for the black street in every town.
So much for the hillock of dangerous. Someday I'll reach the peak of true knowledge, self and otherwise, and attain the peace that comes with it. But in the meantime, I'll muddle through with my daily Prozac and my daily caffeine. I wonder if Tom Cruise will be at the Golden Globes. I don't even enjoy seeing His Toothiness anymore. Being a Friend of L. Ron is one thing. But telling people that they're somehow lesser because they use antidepressants? My mother would probably still be alive if she took them. But she was raised with an anti-medication bias, and she passed it along to me. My grandfather died of late-diagnosed bone cancer (his femur just snapped one day when he tried to get out of a chair) 15 years later and my mom died of kidney failure, brought on by diabetes complications. And a few years after that, I started to truly see the error of their ways.
I saw the impact antidepressants have truly had on people I love. And I saw the impact the absence of antidepressants have had on people I love. And I finally quit being a hypocrite chickenshit and took some myself. And suddenly, the world seemed a hell of a lot more manageable. And I felt a hell of a lot less like a failure.
It's funny when I think about how short a time it's been, really, since I thought antidepressants were fine -- for other people. And being gay was fine -- for other people. And I thought Tom Cruise was cool -- for a guy who's half a foot shorter than me. Guess what I think now?
The great thing is that I don't care if you or anyone agrees with me. That, plus a diminished fear of Mondays, is a Prozac side effect I am more than happy to embrace.
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2 comments:
Awww. That's the nicest pro-anti-depressants (Is that like a double negative? Does it make you just depressant?) diatribe I've ever read.
Seriously, the Golden Globes? I thought you were just working to see how the night shift went. Hmm.
I'm sorry you don't get enough sleep during the week. I want to change that, somehow, someway. Maybe I'll start hitting you over the head with a club or something at 10 o'clock each night.
Seriously, though, you really aren't a selfish person so I think there has to be a different explanation for your tardiness. Like, oh, complete and total lack of any sense of time???
And another thing -- about Dr. King. How come, if you want to find the poorest school with the fewest resources in any district -- and the one where virtually all the black kids go -- you look for the one named for him. I mean, really. Wasn't he fighting segregation? So we honor him by naming the "black" schools after hime. How f-ed up is that???
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