In the AA meeting I went to this afternoon, the group secretary and main speaker was a cute young guy who had the crinkly-smile eyes of Alessandro Nivola
. As incentives to attend meetings go...er, yes, right, that's not the point, I realize. But still.
The reading of the day focused on happiness, as in, happiness is not the point. You're not always going to be happy--you can't depend on it, you can't pursue every bright sparkly thing of the moment and clutch it as a possible answer. You have to accept that there'll be things you can't change, and mucky troughs of unhappiness, because if you don't, you're setting yourself up for shocks and an invitation to stumble and fall in that mud and flail and suffocate and be unearthed by dogs months later, rotting and pungent. The reading of course said it less graphically and more reasonably, but I can't find it online. And it was reasonable, but happiness is such a big goal for me, as a depressive personality, that I think: this croissant will enrich me! These earrings will make me happier! But trinkets and chocolate aside, when I feel just a free-floating happiness--balmy spring air, all my current ducks in a row, and all that--I think: yes, this is it, this is what I'm after. Serenity now (heh
) and always. A light-hearted feeling, as someone in the meeting said today.
I'm just blathering. I have tried to keep to my schedule of the day--check LJ only at one o'clock, three o'clock, etc. It's hard, though. It's possibly more addicting than mind-altering substances.
ETA: You know, I bet employee productivity in this building would go up 39% if the walls were an actual color, something other than white. A nicely textured dual layer of warm colors. There should also be ferns.
Corporations are like vacuums going after a quota of