Black, plum, and an immature conscience

My feet hurt, courtesy of my new boots (aka Petronas Towers). Every time I have to cross the marble hall of the unfinished Babtain building (aka The Skating Rink), I feel like taking the damned shoes off and sliding across the cold floor with my socks on while singing “Oh Happy Day” to the sound of the electric drills.

But they do look nice. 🙂 The boots I mean.

For the past few days, I’ve been living inside my own personal Optimism Bubble. I refuse to feel angry, cross, or upset because of some idiotic person or reason. I’m going to be cheerful, inside and outside, even if it kills me. My euphoria seems to be working, I feel a lot less stressed!

In fact, I feel so relaxed that a tiny blood vessel popped in my eye the other night causing me to look like I have viral conjunctivitis. My co-workers threatened to send me home, so what did I do? I asked my crush to check if I was contagious. 😀

I realize that I’ve stopped making my Good List.

It’s not that I’m no longer interested in my Campaign to Do Something Good Everyday. It’s just that it feels so fake to have to think back and say “Aha! I did this and that and it was something nice.” On most days, things that I did are all the same, or I couldn’t think of a single amazingly wonderful thing that I’ve done. So I just stopped writing.

But I still try to be a better person. And if I’ve done something good, no matter how small, and made someone happy for a moment, then that’s the real reward. Not the self-satisfaction of looking at a list and objectifying one’s intentions. It’s no longer an issue of wanting to make myself happy. I genuinely want to make others happy first.

My Theology 151 teacher might be pleased to see that my (still) immature conscience has improved a bit since I was 18. 🙂

I’m wearing black on black on plum. It shouldn’t look good, but I think it does. It’s probably the boots, haha.

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