There was once a lady with a human mind – one that wants something so badly one moment, and desire the exact opposite the next. HUMAN.
She woke up all cranky and ugly, answering the people who greeted her with the enthusiasm fit for the day of one’s meeting with the Grim Reaper. Despite of the efforts exerted by the people around her to cheer her up (or maybe because of it), she remained as Little Miss Stormy the whole day. And the root of it all was the failure of her prince charming to greet her on the first second of her birth date.
And so this person, who’s disputably the perfect embodiment of the word
shallow sensible, went on making everybody’s day as depressing as it could be. She never went out of the room regardless of the calls of her mom, grandma, brothers, uncles, aunts, cousins, friends, and pet dog. She wallowed in self – pity as she stared for minutes on end at that seemingly overpowering speck on her ceiling.
Boy, that was the best birthday of her life! Or it could have been…
It could have been, if she only went out the door enough to see the banner, with all the greetings and wishes the people she ignored the whole day, made for her.
It could have been, if she have bothered to respond to all the people who greeted her via text message, posted in her online accounts, personally shouted (they have to since the door was an unrelenting opponent) their greetings to her, and those that even tried to call her.
It could have been, if she had been humble enough to open that door and taste the source of the stimulating smell coming from the world beyond her door that she had been savoring for hours. But pride kept her.
It could have been, if she only appreciated the effort her prince charming gave out to compensate for his “fault” by sacrificing being the object of his boss’s tirade only to woo and try to get her to smile and open her door to the world.
It could have been, if only she hadn’t been so silly and frivolous.
It could have been the perfect birthday celebration, if she just tweaked her attitude. Even for just a little.
But she didn’t. And so she remained the cranky, old woman the whole day of her 20th birthday, and lived to write about it.
Image courtesy of Google Search
(The last sentence was not meant to imply that old people are generally cranky. Only some of them are. Some are perfect little angels. Others remain to be nasty demons behind wrinkled masks.)