HYPOCRITE

My life has been culminating into this crazy thing bound by deadlines, time frames, and schedules: although I like organization more than I probably ought to, I miss simplicity. Since when does it matter if a paper be four pages or eight pages? Since when should a person lose sleep, sanity, compassion… over an insignificant assignment in the eternal scheme of this world?

Last Sunday, Ashley N. asked me to give the lesson for FHE. I did, giving one on optimism. I privately set the goal to be optimistic all week. I failed. Miserably failed. Besides having a Hurricane Katrina proportioned migraine for multiple days, I was short-tempered, frustrated, depressed, and cranky. I didn’t want to laugh. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to do anything.

But knowing this, and remembering what I shared on Sunday, I feel even worse (imagine that) because I know that I am being a Hypocrite. “Be happy,” my mouth said. “Be miserable,” my actions yelled. “Smile at others,” I suggested.” “Don’t you dare smile at me!” my eyes hissed. “The Savior, even through all that He suffered- for you, for me, for all of those He loved- was the most optimistic man to live. We are taught to be like Him,” I reminded the group. But, to everyone reading my actions, face, or mind, “Woe is me. Let me be miserable.”

But…. I wanna report… I am fighten’ dat miserable misery-devil.
And

I

Am

Now

SMILING!!!!!