bad days

Ever have a bad day and not know why? I woke up feeling like I just wasn't in the mood for anything, and no matter what, I couldn't really pull myself out of it. I resigned to just being slightly grumpy, because that's how I am; I just go with it. But sadly, when I got to work, two people had already called out and another called out shortly thereafter. And while most the day was "fine", I was in no mood to humor people or even talk to them. Maybe it's just Thursdays that I hate, being that it's almost the end of the week, but not quite, and the shift goes from 4-1130. Maybe it's because I knew John would be working and I knew that every word he would utter over the radio would be laced with ungrateful contempt for us all. The real capper was a Chinese woman having me order a bunch of Magic School Bus books for her demanding little brat of a son who pointed out any little thing he could to express his anger (to the point where I think I called him rude). But here I am now, with some beer, and two days off, and a birthday staring me in the face. It's strange to get down without any real reason, but I figure that's life in the world we live in, where something as meaningless as "selling books" is considered a serious job and people depend on it for their livelihood. I wrote a poem before going to work, so here it be.


In and out of grace
I slip, day to day
as life passes by
in moments either
capped with control
or mired in doubt,
the latter being the victor
most of the time,
in the way anxiety
bursts like firecrackers
and rings through the ears
& the back of my mind
in concentrated waves
as I affirm myself
and inhale the calm
--breath by breath--
that I've constructed
ever so carefully
and must maintain
oh so frequently,
no doubt until
the day I die.