Getting Better than Standard

The day you fall back is great. You get an extra hour of sleep, you feel refreshed, and you embrace the coziness of the early darkness. But following the Sunday fun, comes that first week of Standard Time. And it tends to be just that, standard. As in not particularly special or refreshing or cozy.

For some reason the first week of Standard Time 2011 was particularly rough. The peppy melody of my alarm suddenly became a dour and dreaded tune; the rain and cold and then yesterday, snow, that came with the time change was dreary; scandalous news defaming my home state's university was disgusting; leaving the office to drive home through the darkness was disheartening; and knowing that the next day was predicted to get worse was downright depressing.

More often than not this week, I felt glum and discouraged. And I begged myself to snap out of it, thinking of the advice Peter gave me - it was my choice to be sad or happy. I kept saying, "I choose the latter. I choose the latter!" But contrary to his belief, it isn't that easy.

Over the years, especially during that time in my life when weeks like this one turned into months and seasons, I've learned a thing or two about dealing with compounding crabbiness . In my findings, you do have to make a choice. But it's not as glib as Peter's cure-all solution. Basically, you have to choose to look for the good in your day instead of the bad. During the darker days, like the standard ones, the good can be harder to spot, but once you see it, bit by bit, it lifts you up.  

For instance, on Monday, after I had nearly been knocked off the Monopoly board nine or ten times by the notoriously aggressive Naperville commuters, there was a glimmer of hope. The death-defying, saintly Benton and Mill crossing guard, took three confident steps into one of the scariest intersections in downtown Naperville. For me. She tamed the tenacious traffic with her STOP sign for me. And as I waved and expressed my gratitude for helping me get back to 'Go' safely, some of the standard went away.
 
Then, there was this man on Tuesday, standing on the corner with me as we waited for our turn to cross the street, holding our ground against the wind and rain coming at us from all directions. He turned to me and said, "man, you are one intrepid runner."
I asked him to repeat what he said. I had heard it, but I needed another second or two to figure out what intrepid meant.
Intrepid - fearless, heroic, brave, bold. (cool.)
"You are one intrepid runner."
That statement made me beam. Not only had this man told me that I was bad ass in so many words - he had challenged my vocabulary for the day and gifted to me a bonus word that I could add to my cache.

On Wednesday, the Polish priest at mass who usually allocates the better part of the day to slowly reading and elaborating on his homily, closed the Gospel, and said "we're not having a homily today." That was just about as good as it gets. 

By Thursday, I was still laughing about the snuggie story, proudly wrapping my favorite wallpaper around my blog thanks to my friend, Pam, hugging Ellie, feasting on Pfifferling Suppe, crusty rolls, and apple kuchen at Claire's house with the whole family, and completely snapped out of standard. By Thursday, I had recognized once again that the good in this world far outweighs the bad.

Sometimes it comes from a person who is in your life for a minute. Sometimes it comes from a person who is in your life forever. But it and the people who spread it are everywhere. You just have to choose to see them. 
And then to be one of the people who shares goodness with others. On 11/11/11 - on Veteran's Day - and on Friday - I'm better than standard. I'm good. No, I'm super.


Lo.