My dismal flickering fluorescent light and yellow cinderblock walls seemed pessimistic to my situation. The metal framed mirror stared at me, blank and indifferent. Not even the face looking back at me from it's reflection was comforting. It was the first time in months that I sincerely wished for a familiar face other than my own.
I was in a complicated mood. Annoyed, frustrated, angry, confused, tired; all of these and more were pushing, arguing, and interrupting each other inside my head. I stood in my dorm room wishing for someone, anyone to stand still so I could punch them. At the same time I wished for that person to listen to me vent, even if they didn't understand, and afterwards hold me and tell me everything would be okay.
I glanced around my room for some type of consolation. Clothes, books, packing paper, and decor were scattered in the disarray of unpacking. I knew there wouldn't be anything amongst the mess to help me, but I still looked, compelled by desperation. Suddenly, ironically, I saw a circular yellow object smiling at me from it's place on the bed. The bubble container's round black eyes and oversized smile looked at me with impudent humor. I didn't want to, but I found myself smiling back at it.
I then blew bubbles, watching the miniature orbs float across my room. They quietly danced through the room and slowly settled to the floor, lingering for a moment before joining the departed souls of all bubbles.
Five minutes later, my problems hadn't changed, but somehow I didn't feel so bad. The dance of the bubbles had distracted the noisy riot inside my head, and my customary optimism was returning. Maybe the next 24 hours wouldn't be so bad after all.