States of mind have color. Depression is gray. Suicidal is a sucking black hole. Monotony is a muddy brown. A ten-minute trip to the grocery store tonight delivered an unexpected burst of color to my mental landscape. There was the Jersey Italian father in the bread aisle throwing a tantrum because the store was out of his favorite bread, while his wife and kids rolled their eyes and worked around him. There was the redneck in line in front of me who borrowed my swipe card to get the sale prices on his stuff and then grilled me about how much I pay for gas and whether I use my gas points from the grocery store to their full advantage. Total gentleman about it, in his way. There was the grandfather in line behind me, who jumped in with some vignettes about how much it cost to take his wife on a date in '59, when gas cost 18 cents a gallon and he got paid top union dollar for his work -- $3.15 an hour. And the checkout clerk, who was clearly finding fun where he could, riling up his coworkers, swearing with every other word, challenging the grandfather to prove that he was older than 30 and mocking me for going for that 3 cent discount for bringing my own bag. The fact that I was up on my own two feet, no canes or wheelchair for the trip, added a whole freakin' rainbow to the whole experience. It's been over a year since I felt confident and able enough to do that and enjoy it.
Bring on the sparkly fuckin' hearts and glitter.