Raindrops in my coffee

So, this morning, I was a Muppet.  Not a bad thing to be, by any means.  I love Muppets.  In fact, anyone who doesn't love Muppets probably doesn't have a soul.  I'm  not kidding.  Those puppets can bring a sense of humor to just about anything - and I think we could all learn a thing or two from them. 

This morning I sat out on my fire escape drinking my coffee and watching the cars fly down Hamilton Avenue.  I watched them until the headlights that flickered off the billboards on the highway gradually went out, and the sun revealed a new, overcast day in the gritty Brooklyn neighborhood where I live.  I was feeling pretty overwhelmed and not at all ready for the world to wake up with me.  I wanted the whole city to stay asleep so that I could continue to turn cartwheels in my head for a few more hours. 

The thing is, a few more hours wouldn't have done anything to solve the riddles and answer the questions.  It would not have changed the fact that I can't run on an injured foot, nor the fact that I have more than a little anxiety about where things are going in my life right now.  Those extra minutes wouldn't have changed anything at all, really.  Except maybe my caffeine intake, and god knows I don't need to be any more jittery than I already am.

So around 6:00am, I think, I stood up and looked around - at the trash in the alley below, the condos across 4th Avenue and the projects beyond them, the sad looking umbrella outside the window one story down.  And it started raining.  Just a little.  A sprinkle, really.  And I started laughing.  Hysterically, uncontrollably, "have to sit down and catch my breath" laughing. 

Nothing was funny, exactly.  Nothing at all.  In fact, everything was just so fucking sad that the only reaction I could have was laughter.  It was the rain that did it, I think.  The pure irony of the rain on top of all the sad thoughts I was having and  unhappy sights I was seeing.  How "emo" it was for the rain to match my mood.  I felt like a freakin' hipster composing a song in a studio apartment in Williamsburg.

I laughed for my poor, blind dog who had just woken up and was crying in the bedroom.  My empty coffee cup waiting to be refilled.  The discarded remains of an air conditioner down below.  The fact that I could be moving at any moment.  My mom sending me an Easter gift full of things I can't eat.  And my stupid, injured foot.

Sometimes, I just have to laugh at myself.  Because, really, life is full of ups, downs, and corkscrews.  If I take myself too seriously, I'll miss the chance to enjoy the delicious irony of it all.  And what fun would that be?

I think the Muppets have the right idea - laugh until it hurts, and then laugh some more.  If you shed a few tears in the process, get someone else to laugh with you.  Chances are, you weren't the only one who needed to laugh in the first place.