Being happy comes easily some days.
Some days, like today, were lousy. I was discouraged, low, cranky, pessimistic. I felt tired, like if I took any more than two steps, I was wading through jello. I felt inexplicably paranoid, as if I was suddenly stripped from the affections of those I care about. Were my friends really my friends? Was I ignorant to the way things really were? And why the heck was celery and hummus a solid idea for a lunch?
And then, some days are best wrapped up by having pleasant conversation with friends, ones that remind me of how I value the genuine people in my life. It's topped off by warm kitties sleeping close by, and consuming an entire bowl of vanilla pudding.
Being happy is a choice. I choose to be happy. I choose to be grateful. I choose to love.
I don't normally like to assume (although I always do so unconsciously), but I'm thinking I'm one of those 'pleasant conversation' friends :) I mean, we did have a very (mostly) pleasant, long conversation today. And I seem to remember we both were feeling pretty good by the middle of it... Even if I'm not one of those genuine people, you know how much you mean to me and how much you count in my life. 1, 2, 3!
ReplyDeleteAnd I also choose to love. I choose not to condescend and judge people for not doing things like I think they should be done. I'm just not going to do that. Because that's lame in the worst way. I only like to be lame in the best way ;)