Monday I fell back on old habits and – for once – I don’t think it was a bad thing.

For a year now I’ve been feeding an addiction to all things political.  I knew what I was doing, but I went ahead anyway.  It was an election year.  I was not conventionally employed.  I had the time, the interest and a fairly strong constitution.  So I dove into the turbulent political waters.  I watched MSNBC from morning till night, while I completed job applications, while I did housework, while I ate, sometimes even while I slept.  I howled about the ridiculousness of the economic meltdown with my equally-fired-up brother on the phone and in person.  And I read.  I read “Too Big To Fail,” “The Republican Brain,” “What’s the Matter with Kansas?,” “Griftopia,” “Capital Offense,” “The Big Short.”

I was wound up.  Everything wound me up.  I wonder how much my friends and family enjoyed talking to me.  I had become someone different, someone they didn’t know.  Like all addicts, my habit changed my personality.

Then I started reading “Twilight of the Elites” and began to falter.  Not that there’s anything wrong with the book.  Chris Hayes, the author is one of my MSNBC buddies.  From what I’ve read, he’s done a very good job with the material.

It was me.  I’d reached my NPR break point.  It’s the same reason I can only listen to NPR in small doses.  We liberals are lots of things, lots of very good things, but we aren’t the most cheerful people in the world.  In fact, we’re pretty much obsessed with all the things that need fixing in the world.  It’s part of the reason conservatives don’t like us.  If we spend too much time together we’re like Eeyore, convinced that we’re all going to die from any one of a million things.  Conservatives just want to take a few minutes to enjoy a nativity scene at Christmas and we crap all over them.  If we’re not crapping on them for Christmas, we’re screaming about all the unhealthy additives in our food.  We crap all over one another, too.  So I can’t be an NPR guy.  I need some sunshine, some light, low-brow, un-P.C. fun.

I have a friend who works in the Capitol building in DC.  He tells me one of the saddest things to him is that the Republicans – with whom he disagrees on every political point – are the nicest people in the world, while the Democrats – with whom he’s in total solidarity – just aren’t.  He says the Republicans will always greet you warmly, remember your name, and ask about your family.  The Dems, on the other hand, can’t even be counted on for a “Hello” passing in the hallways.  Sure I’d rather they were doing good work in Congress, but is a smile and a kind word too much to ask for?

I like to think I’ve always been fairly well-informed.  If I got caught on a segment of “Jay Walking” on “The Tonight Show,” I wouldn’t have been caught short by questions like “Who’s the Secretary of State?” or “When was the War of 1812 fought?”  But I wasn’t a wonk by any means.  I wasn’t absorbed by the particulars of how Congress was working (of course it was always working better than it does now, so there was a lot less to pay attention to) or the minutiae of any specific bill that was wending its way through either house.  Who had the time?  I was also trying to have a social life.

Monday something magical happened.  I got up early, came down to my favorite Starbucks, had a latte and wrote a blog post about drinking.  I was relaxed.  My neck didn’t hurt.  The post was good and fun and I started getting compliments back on it.  It’s happened before.  People like to read the fun stuff.  It lightens the load.

This may be the sign that it’s time to get back to the original intent of this blog:  to point out the oddities in the world around us.  Not that I won’t still find some of those oddities in the big white buildings in DC.  (Teachers carrying assault weapons in schools?  Are you kidding me?)  And I can’t possibly go cold turkey on MSNBC.  (What really is a day without Rachel Maddow, anyway?)  But I’m going to try to expand the focus a little and leave more of the “ARGH!” to people who thrive on the stress.  Like Rachel.