Impulsive Inquiry

uncontrolled questioning of the world I perceive.

Wipeout!

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On my way to class this morning my chin decided it wanted to become more intimate with the pavement. In other words, my board hit a rock and stopped. I did not stop. My chin took the brunt of the fall.

In the grand scheme of things this is no big deal. I have a scrape and a bruise and my face looks a little lopsided. Really. Not a big deal.

What is far more important is that I got up and continued skateboarding for the rest of the day.

“Why is this so important?” you ask.

“Im getting to it!” I reply.

 

There is something about my life you all should know by now. I fall on my face a lot. Both literally and metaphorically. I often need to use that ability to get right back to what ever I was doing before I felldowntripedgotbitcrashedwenttotheeroffendedsomeonescoredlowonatestwastoloudect.

Would I rather that I spent less time picking my self up and moving on? Of course. Is that a reasonable expectation? No.

 

“So what?” you ask.

“Hear me out.” I reply.

 

For the past weekish I have been in a bad mood. I couldn’t figure out why. Seemingly out of nowhere my relaxed carefree feelings of happiness turned grumpy. I was short (mood wise, physically I am always short), mopey, negative and sad. I had no idea why I couldn’t just pick myself up and move on.

Enter social work school’s ever-present omnipotence. In my theory of individuals class we were assigned to read “Mourning and Melancholia” by Freud. He describes melancholia as the act of mourning when you don’t know what you are mourning about. Wow. That seemed familiar. So, like any good social worker, I followed Freud’s advice. In order to pick my self up, I had to figure out what it was that was keeping me down.

So I dug in.

I looked close.

And, I figured it out.

“This story has no plot” you say.

“I’m getting to the point” I reply.

 

This morning, when I woke up I was in a better mood. This good mood continued through breakfast and was just hitting its stride into a great mood when,

Whap.

I fell on my face.

 

And then, I picked my self up, got back on my board and got my butt to class.

 

“how was your mood?” you ask.

“Fantastic” I reply.

 

 

 

(I would like to note that If this post makes no sense in anyplace but my head, oops. Cause it is midterms morphed into finals without a break for the second week here and I left my brain somewhere back around structural theory and social welfare policy)

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