Happy Monday to you who decides to read this. My weekend consisted of working, even yesterday although it's not a common thing in this country. Working the first shift on Sundays is actually one of the best shifts on the schedule, believe it or not. Now, the strange thing that happened. Sometimes I have my wallet in a pocket on my uniform while working but probably not so much in the future and here's why: I lost my wallet!
Or so I thought. Initially I thought somebody had stolen it. This was such a letdown. Losing a key or something else is almost unforgivable. As I might've written earlier my harsh judgement will never be transferable to other people. My high expectations of myself really limits me. So, after spending a lot of time looking, retracing my steps, cursing and blaming myself, I actually found it. And you know what? I felt something that I haven't felt in a long time. I felt happy! I'm not meaning just feeling content but actually the kind of happiness where you want to hug everybody around you and smile. So one of the worst incidents I've had in a long time turned into an occasion of joy; not just because that I was happy at that very moment but also the significance of being able to be happy.
The question I ask myself now is where did that come from? Why am I not able to feel like that on a normal day? Maybe it's my assumption of how other people are when they describe themselves as happy. I see them as euphoric and head over heels with joy, when in the end there is no final answer to what happiness really is. In the meantime, I'm happy with being content. Setting the bar too high will only bring you down again, right?
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