Tonight, I looked around our house and thought “I feel happy”. And I couldn’t pinpoint why, so I decided to find a million tiny reasons instead of one big reason. Thus, I’m happy just because…
Because my husband leaves his clothes in the bathroom. EVERY. DAMN. MORNING. But I pick them up every day, and I put them in the laundry, and I wash them and I dry them and I put them away, and that act makes him feel loved.
Because every time I go into a bathroom, a dog comes to make sure I didn’t die in there.
Because I am exhausted, have a brain infection, and a relapse going on that makes me sorry I pushed myself the last week. But I also have a husband upstairs cooking me dinner while singing to the Violent Femmes at the top of his lungs.
Because I have a job, a family, friends, pets, even (especially?) a home that I love. And even though some days, pieces of that puzzle or the whole damn thing make me want to scream, but I wouldn’t trade any of them for anything else.
Because I have a few trusted friends I can vent to, who can vent to me, and who remind me that shit’s never that bad.
Because it’s Christmas, and the only lists I have to worry about are the things we need for the house, the upcoming semester, and how they affect my travel lists. And that’s a good thing.
This list could be longer, but I have a freaking brain infection and I’m tired. Please don’t judge me, or do. Whatever.