Here Comes the Sun

I am so unbelievably happy today.

No reason. Just happy. And isn’t that the best when it happens?


Why does everything seem good today? Walk with the dog was good. Coffee was good. Spartan omelet I had for breakfast was good. (And really, it couldn’t be bad. Spinach, mushrooms, tomatoes, and feta cheese. Yum!) Weather was good. Work was good. Workout was good. Drive home was good.

And I’m not even worrying about when the other shoe will drop…



Big weekend ahead.

Tomorrow is Drop-Off-Dog-at-Groomer-So-He-Can-Get-Shaved-Day. I love when he gets his shave, because the groomer always shaves this square on his butt that makes me giggle whenever we go on walks. Plus, he’s a Lab, and I have wood floors. Need I say more?

I’m going to see Kahlua in the afternoon. I’m sure that after the workout today and the ride tomorrow, I won’t be able to walk tomorrow night when I go out with friends.

Saturday, I have Saturday chores and need to remember to meet Sharon to workout, have lunch, and get my facial. Saturday night I’m going to the hockey game with a big group of friends.

I promised Lily’s mother I’d meet her at the University library on Sunday afternoon. And the rest of my favorite day will be spent writing and doing laundry, I’m sure.

And at some point I have to take the car to get washed, so I can finally get the dog's nose prints off the windows.

And just remember to breathe and enjoy it all.


Life is good.



Crap. I just reread what I've written, and now I get why the writers I enjoy reading the most are suicidal alcoholics. Because well-adjusted, happy people are really boring.

There goes that other shoe...