EPTThen, the next day, as if unaware of how far you've sunk yesterday, starts to create a spectacle of opportunity and hope. You encounter it with skepticism: "this is just a tease, a down in disguise of an up just so I can tolerate the decline of everything around me a little bit longer."
When you're up and your life starts to show weakness, you feign ignorance: "Things will resume back to the way they were, I've got too much going on for my life to start falling apart." Then it does, you're slapped with the realization that your exit-strategies all fell through and you're out on your ass wondering why you only looked at the skyline instead of the incoming downhill slope that made your stomach flip upside-down and gulp in fear of the uncertain future.
But now it's moving up, slowly, without assurance. You wonder if it's too early to rejoice that this collar is finally giving you some breathing room, to fill your lungs with the rush of someone finally noticing you.
I guess that's what people mean when asked what others what they are doing right now: "I'm in transition". From the ups and downs, we're all transitioning.
In the end, it's a glass half-empty/half-full perspective where you can see the "downs" as your way to climb back up and the "ups" as life trying to stay afloat. Then you have to account for the different aspects of your life. Job is up, relationship is down. Job is down but health is up. Then account for the unknowable: Relationship is up, Health is unknowable but job is down so you can't afford to inform health.
