But I'm Not Really Sorry I Didn't Write About Thanksgiving

I was going to write a post about everything I am grateful for, but then I got frustrated and decided that I really can't write one honestly right now. Sorry. I know this is the antithesis of the meaning of today. However, I will regale you with what ran through my head at 2 a.m. this morning when I couldn't sleep.

I think that a lot of people have the perception that I am fun and silly and I don't really think deeply about things. For example, I don't post my political or religious views on Facebook nor do I talk about major news items during the course the day. This may give people the impression that I don't think about these things: I do. I just choose not to announce it.

The way I see it: there's a lot of sad and angry going on in the world at any one time. Many times, I deal with sadness at work. For example, last year, when the shootings happened at Sandy Hook, my office was a steady stream of people, mostly adults, looking for a cup of coffee and words of comfort as they tried to make meaning of something tragic. As a librarian, people think you have the answers to everything. I really don't, but I can listen and make a mean cup o' joe.

So, if I refuse to participate in debates about gun control, Obama, the war on Christmas, etc., it's not because I don't think about them. I am just choosing not to focus my energy on it. I am choosing to focus my energy on trying to be silly.

So after I was finished thinking about that, I decided to focus my mental energy on my irrational fears. As Stephen King wrote in Danse Macabre, it is easier to fear the fictional 50 foot bug that might be behind the door as opposed to dealing with the realistic fear of nuclear war. Because of this, dear reader, I was awake last night thinking about Robert the Doll. Because worrying about Robert the Doll hitch-hiking from Key West to Rochester to chew my hair is a much better fear than a school shooter.