Gratitude, or Whatever

The idea of a gratitude journal is so straightforwardly nice. List the things that make you happy. List your deepest thanks for all the coffees you had today. A transcendent and gracious act, and if you do it, you are better than everyone. You are like an angel.

I am grateful for: this guy.

It sounds a bit too direct, I think. A "gratitude journal" sounds like something a weird older relative would make you do, aged seven on a Sunday when you really, really would rather be evolving your Eevee into an Espeon. I guess maybe I'd prefer a general scrapbook or journal. One that was just like any other, except that you knew, in your own gorgeous, big mind, that it was for recording all that good stuff around you. It's a secret, and that makes anything better.

Another point is that I am a hater, and I value hating. Being thankful and enjoying stuff can certainly be fun, but babes, I need my rage. I need my fresh, searing irritation and bitter resentment. And you know, all the things between that and pure, idyllic, heavenly love and admiration and joy. Because sometimes all the great things make the bad things seem that much more unfair. We need the whole bundle. A dog caused very hot coffee to be spilled on me yesterday. And I do not forgive that dog. 

Ok fine, I forgive the dog.

Blossoms are allowed to flower in the USA.

Anyway, I suppose this is my gratitude journal, for right now. I am grateful for the ability to feel the whole steaming circus of emotions. I am especially grateful to have learned that I can be really mad for a second (e.g. aforementioned dog hot coffee incident) and then just get over it (after my aunt puts my jumper, now moist with coffee, in the wash). I am grateful for the pretty white blossoms that show up everywhere in spring, a unifying feature of all sorts of places - and one that I have used to decorate this post. Wherever you go (or at least... in many places) you will be comforted by the blossom. It belongs with you, and you belong with it. The world is with you, y'know? Familiar things remain.

I am grateful for the glimpses of what I would call my "true" look - glumpy type woman, slouchy jumper, hair up. I like the times I see myself in the mirror and think, "yeah......... that's so me". That's the platonic ideal of me. Very satisfying.

Glump woman.

Lastly, I am grateful for sleep, which I will do now.

                                                                                                 (Goodnight)