Ways To Overturn a Bad Mood

I have woken up in bad moods for no apparent reason a lot lately. There’s no reason to be upset about anything, but I’ve just been a grouchy butthead from 7am to well in the afternoon of late, only to see my mood gradually increase throughout the day until going to bed feeling much happier. The heat is partially to blame as I don’t sleep well when it’s in the 90s, but one other thing I’ve noticed is that I almost never sing anymore. If I look at my 2013 karaoke log compared to this year, it’s night and day how many songs I’ve sung. I mean a year ago I was almost at triple-digit karaoke performances, and this year I’m stuck on a mere 24. And I almost never sing along with the radio anymore. So for the rest of this week, I’m going to make a concerted effort to belt out a few tunes while in the car, as I think it drastically helps my mood for the day. Furthermore, I believe a gentlemen’s karaoke night at The Water Tank is in order one last time before Babytown encompasses my time.

In similar news, there’s a restaurant very near my office called Bill Miller’s BBQ. It is a chain and it’s a fast-food version of BBQ, meaning it’s not very good. They do, however, serve one of those wildly unhealthy chicken strip/fries/biscuit baskets with a cup of country gravy for dipping, and a large sweet tea, and it is pretty dang good, as far as heart attack-inducing $6.79 lunches go. I’ve ordered this about 7 times over the past three years, and every time I finish eating it I feel miserable and wish I hadn’t done it. I’m sure it’s easily 1000+ calories with virtually no positive nutritional value. I have been craving this damn basket for an entire month now, and every single day on lunch break I talk myself out of it, opting instead to eat the healthy lunch I brought from home, or work out, or go out somewhere with co-workers that isn’t soaked in lard. But on Monday, I was in one of my foul moods, and all I wanted was that damn chicken strip basket. So I ignored my better judgment and went for it, and wolfed that greasy basket down in record time. And I felt much, much happier. And I didn’t regret it for one minute, even hours later. It was just what I needed. I only wish I had paid an extra 30 cents and got a second cup of gravy-like substance. In summary, I believe a gross fast-food lunch like this does serve a purpose once in a great while. If it can instantly improve my mental health then it must be worth it now and then.

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