Rose-Coloured Glasses

La vie en rose.
Perhaps I’m finally starting to learn that life can be as miserable as you want it to be.
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That I’ve been blessed with the privilege of having the option to put on a good big-band classic and let the brass tickle my eardrums, bringing on a smile big enough to pull my government-mandated mask under my nose.
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But who cares?
If anyone says anything, I can pull it up,
and move on.
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In a ridiculously nonsensical world,
life can be as normal as I make it.
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The old normal.
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Sing a hymn in my head, or a Christmas carol aloud in September, since the mask muffles it anyway.
I guess that’s one perk, right?
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Or perhaps, my very own “new normal”.
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I can count my blessings and be grateful for how great life is.
That’s new.
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And when it isn’t, say “Blessed be the name of the Lord” and move on.
That’s new.
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Perhaps if you pray the rosary enough,
you’ll start to see life through rose-coloured glasses.