Okay. It spite of my Friday whine, things are going pretty good. Not much has changed. Nothing monumental has occurred. No lotto wins or such. No. I'm just happy. And oddly so.
It started on Friday, as a matter of fact. And it was just the little things. Beautiful day. Open pump at the cheap gas station. No line at the bank. And now, I'm getting miles on my debit card. For a girl who never has cash and will use her debit card to buy gum (and then get cash back), this is sort of fabulous thing. It makes me quite happy.
My venti-soy-latte from Starbucks was perfect. I had lunch over the Malibu surf and under blue skies at Gladstone's -- and was not shat on by the plethora of seagulls and pigeons that hover over the patio, which was sort of cause for celebration on its own. I had a nice dinner and was in bed early. I didn't even mind the midnight phone call that pulled me out of the deep sleep I just hit. It was worth it. I felt content.
The weekend was warm and quiet and easy and relaxing. Like I said, nothing monumental or anything in particular has happened to bring on this perma-grinned bliss. This isn't medicinal. Or liquid. As a matter of fact -- and not to be all TMI -- PMS didn't even bring it down a notch. See what I mean by odd?
Yes, things remain on hold. And, nothing's really changed. I didn't lose eight pounds overnight. I didn't wake up a multi-millionaire. I didn't win a Golden Globe or have dinner with the Clooney. A SAG strike looms (which could really put a hiccup in one of my projects), I haven't even begun to deal with my taxes (or input all my debit card usage into QuickBooks), and I'm super behind with work. None of that has diminished the happy. Which is terribly odd, don't you think? But, I'll take it. And, whatever this is, I hope it sticks. This simple form of happy is really kind of groovy. I hope it's like a new flu and you can catch it, too.