I’m comfortable with where I am in life, but there are times that the rat race screws with my head. Following a very innocent conversation with a friend who was, you know, working, as adults tend to do, I could tell she was pre-occupied and wanted to get off the phone. She didn’t have time to indulge whatever nugget of truth I wanted to discuss ad nauseum about what Diane Rehm said because I have time to listen to Diane Rehm. I’ve become that person who writes Letters To The Editor and gets agitated by news reports because I actually pay attention. I do lots of other stuff as well. I blog about important topics such as my husband’s vasectomy. I manage three children. I clean stuff and drive very important people to very important places. I oversee supplies for my household of five. I’m looking for a job and trying to get my book published. I write.In other words, I was having one of those “I’m worthless and my life is pointless” moments because I’m not pulling a paycheck right now. Yes, yes. I know it’s irrational as well as counter-productive. This is why one of my goals for 2013 is to talk positively to myself. To cut these thoughts off at the pass, I decided to see a matinee with a friend to change my perspective. Nothing like intense torture and a little romantic terrorist comedy to change your mood. Zero Dark Thirty was excellent, in case you’re wondering.Watching a Matinee in the middle of the week felt like a super guilty indulgence. I realized when I sat down in the theater that this was the first time I’ve stepped foot in a movie theatre since the Aurora shootings in Colorado. It was a little creepy. I was not anticipating the other creepy factors in the theater as we waited for the movie previews to start. DO NOT go to a weekday matinee to cheer yourself up if you are feeling like the human race is passing you by. Though the movie itself was transportive (even though every character is doing something in the movie that is way more important than anything I will ever do), the theater experience was not.
Surrounding yourself with fanny-pack wearing retirees is not the path to self-acceptance. I’m sure my fellow seniors appreciated the obnoxiously loud sound coming from the screen so they didn’t have to turn their hearing aides up so high. No worries about any Jitterbug cell phones disrupting the movie. Since it was cold in the theater, my friend and I bundled up with our coats, wearing them like fashion-forward slankets. It was a sad scene. Next time I’m just going to say fuck it and wear my house slippers and pajama jeans to the theatre. Still, getting out to a movie did give me incentive to bathe myself. It took the geriatric crowd several minutes to shuffle out of the theater at the end. Bless their hearts. There were only a dozen of us, but it seemed like someone was always getting up to go to the bathroom. At least no one tripped over one of their walkers or canes propped up against the wall.