Human - 1, Apex Predator - 0

Me? Pollyanna? Never conceived of that possibility. Ever. Do y’all remember the 1960 Disney movie version of Pollyanna? Enough treacly sweetness to make me roll my eyes. Topping off the Disney memory with a Merriam-Webster definition: “Pollyanna is characterized by irrepressible optimism and a tendency to find good in everything.”

Me? No way! I was Ms. Sarcasm during my teens and twenties. Approaching apex predator status. Hanging my head in sheer embarrassment, recalling how my sarcasm likely hurt people. It was, however, such a reliable attention-getter for the young me who really, really wanted to be seen.

Sigh.

How the heck did Ms. Sarcasm find herself exiting apex predator territory into Pollyanna-dom??

It was that exercise thing. Exercise is such a primary go-to for my emotional management. Minus that outlet, Ms. Cranky Bear becomes my default mode. Not just cranky, but a return to full-blown apex predator, rearing up on her hind legs. The persnickety tendonitis in my foot left me with, well, few exercise options. My apex predator was poking her head out of the cave, peering slowly ‘round….

Sad to watch a putative, peaceful Quaker, like me, evolve into an apex threat. No prettying it up. Of course, I hadn’t bitten someone’s head off, but my explosive, and shortened temper fuse needed only a spark to let ‘er fly.

The unexpected (but hallelujah) transition from apex predator territory to Pollyanna? Not conscious, believe me. Wouldn’t I just love to take credit for this mood segue, as in “You go, Jan!” But, no…

A simple gift from the universe was the door-opener for my return to sanity. Really simple. It arrived in the form of my favorite unhealthy, but oh-so, happy-making, beverage - Diet Dr. Pepper.

There was a knock on my front door. I barely tamped down my apex predator energy, as I limped to the door. Surprise! It was a neighbor, and good friend, I’d not seen for several months. He was gently waving a 6-pack of Diet Dr. Pepper, explaining it had chased him down several aisles at the grocery store, plaintively calling my name. Responding as the good and caring man he is, my friend took custody of the bawling 6-pack and lovingly carried it to my front steps.

And my cranky apex predator? She slunk back into her cave as my human head poked up among the clouds in Pollyanna territory, while joyfully swigging Diet Dr. Pepper.

Since my loving friend’s Diet Dr. Pepper mission of mercy, Ms. Apex Predator has continued to hang out in her cave. And me? I’m on a Pollyanna roll, remaining nice and upbeat (without being too cloyingly sweet.) The Pollyanna high generated by my caring friend’s simple, down to earth, Diet Dr. Pepper ministry left me floating above the ground, but that’s a safety risk I’m willing to take. Certainly outweighs the explosions of apex predator-dom.