Gettin' My Pollyanna On

Today began as a day of hating life and feeling sorry for and crappy about myself. (Getting cast in a tiny role when you were hoping for grandeur can do that to you.) But now I’m sitting here feeling all misty-eyed about the fact that while I might feel shitty about this, I should be counting my blessings. I have people in my life who love me and bolster me when I’m sad. I have a boyfriend who has listened to my fretting, my worries, my hopes, and has offered me help and advice countless times. I have friends who tell me I’m wonderful (that kind of ego-stroking is simply lovely when you’re full of self-doubt). And I even have a good enough relationship with the director of the show that I can admit to being disappointed and ask what I can do better next time, instead of pretending I’m thrilled with the way things turned out.

So. Feeling rejected. It passes. I can sit here full of melancholy, wondering “why not me?” or I can appreciate that I’m involved. I can berate myself and assume that I suck at life in general, or I can remind myself that I did my best and that everything is an opportunity to improve.

It’s good to get a little perspective. (It’s also good to let it out when you’re really freaking disappointed. My journal got quite the entry last night.)

Anyway. Life goes on.