Jessica
On Saturday morning, I was recovering from another bout of pain-induced insomnia*. I had slept for about two and a half hours the night before and I was near tears. It was the end of a very long and difficult week and I was at the end of my rope. My boss noticed my state and immediately told me to turn off the lights, lay down on the floor and get some rest. After finishing up my work (because I’m a masochist), I took her advice. I took this shot of my office ceiling while laying on my back, my leg propped awkwardly on my desk chair. It is the only picture I took on Saturday.
For the rest of the day, I barely had time for pictures. There was more trainings for my new staff person, more greeting students, a student government meeting, and my very first class in my positive psychology course. Even though my experience in the first class was excellent, it was again not very photogenic. I struggled to focus throughout the class, since it’s very painful to keep my leg in one position for extended amounts of time.
Despite this, I enjoyed spending 4 hours discussing pleasure and happiness with my professor and fellow students. As one of my classmates remarked, I think this was the longest I’ve ever spent discussing happiness with other people. I think that’s something that needs to change, not just in myself, but in all of our daily lives. One of the other students said in class that we don’t wake up every day saying to ourselves, Alright, I’m going to pursue happiness today. We have our to do lists and our hopes and dreams, but they don’t often include pursuing happiness.
What would change if we decided each day to pursue happiness? How different might our lives become?
* Insomnia Update: On Saturday night, we rented movies and got a pizza. As soon as the movie was playing, I was passed out on the couch. In fact, I slept before the pizza arrived, got up to eat, then slept through the rest of the movie. Then, I went to bed at 8 PM and (with some interruptions) slept until 8 AM. In other words, it’s getting better.
