That rain and thunder outside my window right now, that's my mood spilling out of my head and chest and climbing into the sky. I have been tired and stressed and grumpy for the past week and a half. Despite all the obvious mercies the Lord has extended me, I continue to sulk.
Mercy number one: Last Sunday, though my Sunday School lesson was ill-prepared and my mood was uncontrolled enough that I snapped at the class for being late, one of the young men who does not usually come to church appraoched me and said, "That was a really good lesson. I was surprised." "You didn't think I'd be a good teacher?" "No, it's just that usually Sunday School sucks, but that was really good." Then he walked with me almost all the way to Relief Society, discussing what we had talked about in Sunday School. So despite my frustration, I achieved my goal, which is always to reach the one person who needs the most help. (I don't know if he needs the most help, but I'm calling my lesson a success anyway.) But of course it was none of my doing because I was too grumpy to say anything of consequence on my own. In fact, I am surprised the Lord was even able to use me to convey a message to someone else, but whatever.
Mercy number two: On Monday, my first day of training at my new job, I was remarkably not overwhelmed or stressed at all. It is impossible that I de-stressed myself.
Mercy number three: On Wednesday, I received a very nice and unexpected phone call of sympathy and encouragement.
Mercy number four: Yesterday, I received a postcard from two old friends. They aren't on vacation or anything--they were just on their way to the movies and saw a stand with "postcards which screamed out to us 'send me to Anna Eagar!!!'" For a brief moment, I felt loved, undeserving as I am in my current state of hating the world.
Mercy number five: Last night, when I was thinking, "Gee I read need to do something more interactive tonight than watch a movie, but I really don't have the emotional energy to organize something," Lizzy invited me to play games at her apartment.
Yet I continue to feel unloved and unloveable and irrationally grumpy, with the strong urge to break something. Actually, what I really want to do is cook dinner with someone and sit down and eat together and ask the other person how their day was, but I won't because I am too busy wallowing. So today I will sleep, and tomorrow I will consider putting myself back together.