I have happily noted that I am insane. I thought they were just whistling dixie when they were saying that doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results is the definition of insanity. I probably felt that I had no way of affecting any change over my expectations, anyway. Or my actions for that matter.

It may be apparent that I tend to shy away from too great an abundance of positivity. So therefore it pains me to say that I made some sort of breakthrough. That I have been feeling a much lower percentage of sadness in the past week or so. My friend suggested I blog, and I do feel my soul is ripe for expression, but it is still difficult to sincerely spit out the words, "I feel better."

The thing is, I would love to be able to get used to it. Imagine such a luxurious time frame of contentment as to permit trust in it. And if you are as uncomfortable with the concept of contentment as I am, don't forget that it is my version of the feeling. There will forever be room for valleys and gullies and meanderings along the way. I could not change my essence, right? It appears to be the more superfluous angst which I have been able to assuage of late.