Thankful.

26 Nov

I’ve seen lists all over the internet today of things people are thankful for.  Friends, family, poodles … you name it, and people are thankful for it.  As much as I’d like to talk about the weirdness of a holiday where we give thanks for taking over a nation and decimating the people who already lived here, I’ll leave that for another day.  I might as well follow the trend and be thankful for some things, too.

  • My dogs. I have the best dogs ever.  Gretchen is currently hanging out downstairs, and Sebastian is sleeping next to me.  These two are my shadows, and I love them more than most people.
  • Foster. We have our arguments and bad days, but he remains to be one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.  He encourages me and questions me when he thinks I’m doing something half-assed.  He might refuse to watch reality TV with me, but I still love him.
  • My job. Because I have one.  Even better, I don’t hate it.  Well, sometimes I hate it.  But for the most part, I’m doing what I set out to do.  It’s not just a job, it’s a career.
  • Choices. I have them in spades.  Maybe not as much as some people (looking at you, Paris Hilton), but I’ve still got an abundance.  I can decide to have a kid or not have a kid.  I can decide to cut my hair off or stop shaving my legs.  I make dozens of choices every day, and a lot of women in the world don’t have that.
  • Air conditioning. No, seriously.  As much as I love antiques and old houses and dresses with corsets and bustles, I love me some air conditioning, and I’m damn thankful to live in the age of technology.  The temperature has dropped outside, but I’m still sitting here with the a/c on.  Just because I can.
  • Cymbalta. It allows me to feel sane.  I tend to think that drug companies are the devil, but I’ve got to say, my life is so much better because of Cymbalta.

This is the last Thanksgiving in my twenties.  Jesus H. Christ.  That’s a scary thought.  I suppose, though, I should add in that I’m thankful to have made it through.  Most of the time, my twenties didn’t feel much easier than my teens.  There were just more bills to pay. *wink*

I’m also thankful that I made it through writing this post.  Now I have to go pass out, accepting the consequences of eating too much turkey and mashed potatoes.  I’m not even going to mention how the dieting is going.  Eek.  We’ll save that for next time.  Let’s just say, the turkey wasn’t the only butterball at the family meal.

 

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