Wretched Unpacker

There were two little pugs laying outside my bedroom door this morning, noses pressed to the space between door and floor waiting impatiently for me to get up. When I opened the door they ran up and down the hall like they were parading a victory flag before a crowd. They make me smile.

Dearest one and youngest son have gone off to work.
I'm alone for a chunk of time.
The longest in over a week.
I am grateful for the silence.

There are plenty of little tasks to get done today.
I am a wretched unpacker.
My suitcase could sit there for a month without me taking care of it.
I'd empty what I needed and leave the odds and ends to gather dust.
That's my pattern.
It's why I still can't find a pair of earrings I took on my trip east 6 months ago.
So today my goal is to empty the whole suitcase and put it away properly.
Life is made up of little accomplishments.
Having an empty suitcase one day post trip is more like a miracle for me.
It may very well be a first.
Change can happen at any stage in life.
Thank God.

I'm grateful for the little things today:

Wrapping my hands around a mug of tea.
Breathing in crisp spring air.
Two little pugs who dance with joy
when they see me.
I am grateful for much this morning.
Nothing huge and yet everything huge.
Life itself.

This post marks number 1000 in my little old bloglife.

Wholeheartedly

This morning I watched an elderly couple skate circles around each other at the ice rink in what used to be the world's largest mall. She, with gray hair and aging body, made the graceful spins and twirls seem effortless. Her actions had the ease of a teenager and I wondered if she felt like a young girl again.

He, well, what a sight. Dressed in blue jeans, a button up blue shirt and a ball cap, he made these little jumps and twirls, spreading his arms with such flair as he landed them, that I couldn't help but stand there and grin. He, too, had a big grin on his face as he skated.
He looked full of joy.
It did my heart good.

My heart.
It needed some good.
My appointment with the cardiologist didn't go as expected.
I was so sure she would lecture me about my weight (which she did), be happy about my cholesterol readings (which she didn't even address) and then send me on my way with a "see you in two years time" wave of the hand.

Nope.

She sat and told me that the upper chambers of my heart are enlarged. That she needs to run a battery of tests to see what is going on. Most likely it's a hole somewhere or the shunting that was deduced several years ago, but whose source was never found, that is wreaking havoc with my heart.

I sat there and just wanted to cry.
I regretted being alone,
in a city 8 hours from home,
as she told me that news.
I felt so vulnerable.

I thought about my increasing fatigue that I'd been blaming on my new job.
About the near daily bouts of my heartrate speeding up.
About how I almost never wake up feeling rested.
I thought to myself that I was glad she didn't tell me I have cancer.
Somehow I feel more in control less vulnerable with heart issues.

I know there are things I can do to help my heart.
She laid those out clearly.
And there are things that are completely out of my hands.

It was a three hour drive to get to where dearest one was at a conference.
The committe in my head had one hell of a party on the way there.
I had to distract them too many times to count.
They went full speed from one far reaching conclusion and back again.
Ridiculous, but very human thoughts.

I get to dearest one and he is in one foul mood.
He had a migraine so he left the conference mid morning,
took his migraine meds, and next thing he knows it's mid afternoon.
His eyes are still light sensitive and his head is tender.
I'd be grumpy, too, if I were him.
We wait at the elevator and I start to take his mood personally.
I think of the video I posted earlier in the month
and smile to myself.
Okay, dearest one is grumpy, I am feeling needy
and I get to choose my attitude.
Somewhere in my head I think, "Lovely, just lovely."
Then I pray and detach and manage not to get sucked into grumpyland.
We sit with our backs up against the headboard of the bed and talk.
Eventually dearest one asks me how my appointment went.
There is an "oh shit" look on his face when I tell him.
Sometimes being married to a nurse sucks.
They know how serious an enlarged heart can be.

Earlier in the day I tell God that I am not going back to a life where I have to count my spoons. Not if I can help it. Problem is I can only help so much, you know?

I haven't sat and fully hashed this out with God,
but I will.
After the house is quiet and people have gone to work
I will sit and tell God all about my fears.
I will have a good cry.
And I will surrender the whole situation and myself
to the One who loves me wholeheartedly.
I will pray the Lord's prayer.
Surrender is both sweet and painful.
It will,no doubt, do my heart good.

Sidetracked

I have a full week ahead of me.
Three days of work, then two afternoons of appointments.
One evening meeting lasting 4 hours long where I'll give a preview
of a talk I am giving at a women's retreat next month.
Then a road trip to see only daughter
and get some medical tests done and see
the cardiologist.
The cardiologist who will rag on me about my weight
as usual, for not being in that magical range
that I will never be in again.
I'm okay with that.
She won't be.

I wish she could see this journey of self acceptance
is so much more important than the number on the scale.
Celebrate the success of my not binge eating anymore.
Celebrate the weight loss I do have.
But no, it will be boiled down to a number on the scale.
I guess I better deal with that before I have me some
huge ass resentment.
(I can hear the cardiologist telling me
I already have the huge ass bit down pat.)

Sorry, got sidetracked by the committee in my head.

Anyway, all that to say I'm taking a blog posting break until after I get back home towards the end of the month. Talk to you then.

On The Cusp Of A Sorry State

Dearest one and I went for a drive last night.
to see the countryside that is on the cusp of spring.
We went in his pick up.
When we were newlweds everyone had a pickup.
It was a topic of conversation in his family
to see which couples in the community
sat close together in a pickup.
They'd say the honeymoon must be over
when they started sitting on their own side of the truck
instead of like two peas in a pod.
I thought about this as I got in the truck last night.
Every so often I still sit in the middle,
right next to dearest one
just to confuse people.
Actually, I'd sit there every time
but I have this fear of lap seat belts
and am convinced that if we're in an accident
I will surely be paralyzed for life.
So I choose safety over romance.
Which surely must mean I am no newlywed.
But I never tire of riding in a pickup with dearest one.
It always feels special.
Even when I sit way over on my side of the truck.
_______________________________________


The pugs were in fine shape this morning.
Raced outside to do their business.
Raced back in to sit in front of bedroom doors
in hopes that their masters would wake up.
I waited for them to race back up the hallway
and then proceeded to block it off
so dearest one and youngest son wouldn't
get woken up by pitiful whining
outside their doors.
The energizer bunny guessed what I was up to
while I was in the middle of blocking her path
and she tried every which way from Sunday
to get past me.
She didn't.
I thought to myself that it's a sorry state of affairs
to feel such triumph for outwitting a dog
who doesn't even reach halfway up to my knee.

Six Words, Six Words, Six Words

Weary body, tired mind, spoons needed.



~ Show My Face.

Purging The System

Dearest one and I met with a funeral home guy yesterday to make arrangements to start pre paying our funerals. Which sounds both morbid and responsible to me. Between that and getting our wills, personal directives and power of attorneys done a few months ago I feel like maybe we are growing up at last.

Remember how much I whine that I'm not a morning person and all that jazz? Well, I am now waking up on days off at ungodly hours and getting up. Dearest one is still sleeping. I guess the difference is that he will be cheerful when he wakes up and I will just be awake.

Communication is a funny thing sometimes. I have a talk to give to a group of women in a week's time. It's not written yet which is uncharacteristic for me. Every time I sit down to write it my mind goes on holiday. As we were going to sleep last night I mentioned this to dearest one. He was not sympathetic. When I pointed that out to him I realized I needed to rephrase what I was trying to tell him. After I did he said, "Oh, you're panicked about it. You said it so calmly the first time that I had no idea you were panicked." After which he informed me he was going to sleep now and we once again joked about sleep purgatory. Which is exactly what happened. I lay awake for another hour while he went right to sleep.

My mom is so funny some days. Yesterday we must have talked for over an hour. At one point I was telling her how much better I am breathing and how much clearer my sinuses are since I stopped eating wheat. How it used to be that I had to have a box of tissues close by when I ate because my nose became a faucet. She said, "My nose runs when I eat, Granny's nose ran when she ate. I thought it was something that happened when a person got old." No, mom, it happens when you have allergies. I left it at that because if it's not my mom's idea first it usually isn't a good idea in her eyes. "Gee, if it's not my mom's idea, it's not a good idea to her. If it's not my idea, it's not a good idea to me. It must be genetic." No, that's ego and pride I tell myself.

In just over a week I am going on a trip to see only daughter. Really, I have several appointments with health specialists but they happen to be in the same city as only daughter. I miss only daughter. It's been 8 months since we've seen each other. It's going to be fun to spend some time together.

I'm taking only daughter my good blue willow dishes. A friend gave them to me quite a few years ago. They are pretty to look at but eating off of blue plates has never appealed to me. They appeal to only daughter. Plus I only use the good dishes a few times a year and while I secretly have a pretty dish fetish, could buy lots of pretty dishes just because they are pretty to look at, it makes no sense to my rational mind to have more than one set of dishes.

Well now that I've got all this out of my head maybe I can write that talk. Dearest one is up and showered and should be sitting beside me as soon as his coffee is brewed. I don't drink coffee. Never have really. Which is a good thing because caffeine makes my heart go beserk and I really don't need another addiction. At AA I've learned to make the coffee but the first time I did, without any help, there was more than one person who asked, "who made this coffee?" It wasn't a compliment.

Misery Optional

ht to recovering wino

The Chorus In My Head

"They just told me I had table 40. I'm so sorry. I bet you know what you want to order after waiting an hour already."

I smile at my waitress and give her my order for supper.
If she only knew the dialogue that went through my head as I waited, at most, 10 minutes, for her to show up at my table.

It's payday. My first one in over 5 years. I have a board meeting in an hour and decided to treat myself to a nice restaurant supper beforehand. Usually it's Subway for this gal so it's really a treat.

When I first walked into the restaurant and the hostess found out I wanted a table for one she asked if I minded being seated in the lounge. Why, yes I did. Long day at work, surrounded by noise, I wanted a little distance between me and the half a dozen TV screens and the music blaring, so I declined and she brought me to a booth. My favourite booth, in fact, although she didn't know that. The restaurant is busy. From where I'm seated I watch a young family as they eat their supper. The little boy, no more than 3, picks up his hamburger and his face looks like he is ready to feast. The difference between his little mouth and the full size hamburger makes me smile. He eats with such enthusiasm. I watch as he and his sister trades sips of their drinks with each other.

Meanwhile there is a party going on in my head. Usually the service in this restaurant is really good. They take your beverage order within moments of sitting down. Tonight they are bustling about as if I'm invisible. Granted, my booth is at the end of two converging rows so I have no idea which server gets my table. I lean out once or twice to try and get someone's attention. Doesn't work. Then the chorus in my head tells me that really, they are punishing me for not taking that chair in the lounge, and the hostess has conveniently forgotten to tell my server that I'm here. That's the first thought that comes to mind. Immediately I challenge it. I look at how busy they are. I see how many trips the server makes to the family of four's table and think to myself that she very well may be panicking inside because they aren't her only table but they are needing a lot of service. I decide they are simply busy and will get to me when there's a momentary lull.

Which satisfies me for maybe a minute before the chorus in my head reminds me that I'm being punished for not taking the seat in the lounge and I deserve to be treated better than this. Again I challenge that thought. Around and around we go. It's a wonder I'm not too tired to eat by the time my server appears.

She is so apologetic.
She didn't know I was there.
I choose to believe it's a momentary lapse instead of a revenge induced forgetting on the part of the hostess.

Eventually my food arrives and I read the paper and eat my supper.
Perhaps tuckered out by the drama,
the chorus in my head settles down
and goes back to sleep.

Later, standing at the lounge counter paying for my meal,
the noise of the place swarming around me,
I realize the chorus in my head
gave the lounge noise a run for its money.

Sleepy Insight

I've been reading My Stroke Of Insight the past few days. It's one of those books one has a hard time putting down. I'm quite enjoying it.

Often I marvel at how my body works. As I've worked to have a better relationship with my body I've done things like talk to it. After a shower I often thank it from head to toe as I dry off. Everything from being grateful for my feet which have supported my body, my legs for taking me places and on it goes. I try to keep those thoughts in mind on a regular basis.

When I was at my sickest a few years ago, it was a real struggle to be grateful for my body. I felt like it was betraying me. I don't know how it all works, body and mind, but I do remember having a day when I simply told God that I wanted to live. A doctor, who in his wisdom (was absolutely wrong), said I had maybe 10 to 15 years at best, was my impetus to declare, basically, no fucking way. It was his misdiagnosis that prompted me to start looking for life. And I meant it in a way that goes beyond the physical body. It had to do with attitude and outlook on life more than anything. I had no idea what the future held, and never will, but I did know that I wanted to live, really live.

I have no control over whether I get to live a long life. But I do have control over my attitude for the time I do have. And it's always a choice. As life plays itself out I get to choose my attitude towards (especially) the circumstances that are beyond my control. It means being fully human, with all those emotions, and knowing that I'm not alone as I journey. Even when it feels like I've been deserted by God, he is hunkered down beside me, with me, in the circumstance. It means that for those events where it all seems hopeless, there is a God of my own understanding, who will hold out the beacon of hope when I can't grasp hope at all. Thankfully there hasn't been too many of those kind of events in my life. But as I age - and I see every passing year as a privilege - I'm sure there will be more and more of them. Lord have mercy.

Whew - I didn't know I could type anything more than
mindless twitterish drivel at this hour of the day.
Well, this could all be drivel too, seeing how I'm barely awake.
Have a great, hope filled day.

Waking Up Slowly

It looks like the Twilight Zone outside this morning.
The fog is almost making the moon disappear.
Energizer Bunny and Yoga Pup are racing up a storm
at this ungodly hour. They just crashed into their food dishes
and now they are walking around with subdued energy.
Many days they race up and down the hallway so fast that it's
dangerous to get in their way.
Every so often they race while trying to look over their shoulder
and we hear them smack into the wall with a thud.
On the weekend one of those thuds was one of them hitting my leg
while they were racing at full speed.
Isn't it illegal to have that much energy this early in the morning?
Now Yoga Pup is barking as if he's saying to the Energizer bunny,
"give me back my toy."
I do so hope I wake up soon.

Gob Smacked

This video wasn't available to embed here but please go watch this wonderful bit from Britain's Got Talent: Susan Boyle. It's always a bit of a treat to see Simon Cowell gob smacked.

ht to The Anchoress

Sleep Purgatory

"Don't talk to me, I'm almost in that place, in between waking and sleeping."

I say it rather snarkily.
If I go backwards towards being awake,
sleep might elude me for hours.
I panic at the thought.
Dearest one crawls into bed and I snuggle up
and kiss that spot in between his shoulder blades.
"Careful, you might lose your in between place."
I can tell he's grinning as he says it.
Then he informs me that he has no in between place,
he's either awake or sleeping.
"I don't have sleep purgatory like you do."
We both laugh.
When I think about how snarky I am about someone disturbing my purgatory I say, "Maybe I deserve sleep purgatory."
I don't remember if dearest one replied
because I promptly fell asleep.
Maybe someone was praying for me.

Sign Of Faith

"We are all a little bit angry with God because we never expected a tragedy this big," L'Aquila Archbishop Giuseppe Molinari told the faithful gathered in a tent. "But even anger toward God is a sign of faith."

~ Bishop from the Italian region hit by an earthquake earlier this week.

Six Words, Six Words, Six Words

Changing my mind, peace replaces stress.



~ Show My Face.

New Again

I know I've posted this one before but it is especially fitting today.

The High Road

"I like that poster."

He's pointing to a poster on my office wall that talks about how winners basically choose their attitude and instead of taking the easy road of whining and bitching, they choose the higher road. It's one of a handful of posters left on the walls by the woman who had this job before me.

I keep a straight face, but I want to let out a belly laugh so badly. He's just spent 5 minutes bitching to me about his boss and how he's going to quit his job. He stops long enough to tell me he likes the poster and then resumes his complaints.

I can't laugh too loudly, though.
I wonder how often I do the exact same thing
and remain unaware of it.
There's the ideal and then there's reality.
And while it's true that I often, by the grace of God, choose the higher road there are those moments when I think, yes, I'd like to be like that, while sinking comfortably back into the mire.

Of Rainbows and Furrowed Roads

"I'm not used to you being impatient."

We're sitting in a portrait studio, waiting to choose pictures of dearest one in his graduation garb. There are 5 big photos of him in front of me. He is smiling with those rainbow arched wrinkles above his eyes. It's easy to pick my favourites.

If they took my picture right then there'd be a scowl and no doubt furrowed brows. No rainbow arches for me. More like a rut in the road wrinkle between my eyebrows.
I'm tired. I just want to go home. I'm feeling inflexible about taking a detour to pick the photos and the saleslady is taking forever to come help us. I'm not used to me having no patience either. And I'm too tired to care.

Just as I'm ready to walk out of the store she comes over and tries to sell us nearly 250 dollars worth of photos. Yeesh. I love this man. I love looking at these photos of him. But I seriously don't need a mirror like experience of looking at a photo everywhere I turn. We pick our photo package and I leave while dearest one pays the bill.

I have one stop to make. Well, I had three but I decided to cut two of them because I am feeling impatient as hell and I just want to go home. Dearest one has a stop as well. We're in separate vehicles and I fully expect him to be home before me.

It's a long drive home. About half way there dearest one passes me in his pick up. I reach for my cell phone and call him. I can see him ahead of me holding his cell phone to his ear. I make amends right then about being so impatient over an important decision to him. He's worked hard these past two years to work full time and get his degree. He'll have a few months off before he starts on the next level of education. It means job security for him to do this and I kind of like having a roof over my head. We chat and I say sorry and he tells me how he felt about my impatience. It's all good as we hang up our respective phones.

I think about step 10 as I drive home.
Soon dearest one is beyond my sight.
Tonight he'll be my rainbow
at the end of my furrowed road home.

Teasing Smiles

I am so not a morning person.
Why would one choose to be up
when the sun is still visiting distant relatives?
Right. To get a paycheck.
Silly me.

Dearest one couldn't resist teasing me
as he went out the door
shortly after 5:30 AM.
Teasing me that I'm up so early
when I don't have to be at work
until an hour and half later than he does.
Then he remembered that if he got up earlier
maybe he'd be able to eat breakfast.
And that he has much less hair to fix than me
and hasn't taken to wearing makeup,
so that helps his morning schedule.

Dearest one does have the most beautiful smile.
It lights up his face.
I will carry his parting teasing smile
with me through the day today.
For even though it's still dark outside
and I'll never be a morning person,
his smile continues to light up my heart.

Ding, Ding, Ding

It's been a great day.
I know everyone has their idea of fun.
When it comes to work, mine is methodical tasks.
So I like it when there's a pile of filing to do,
when there are appointments to be made and phones to answer.
Isn't it a good thing that's what my job is partly made up of?

I am so glad I can see some humour in the learning process.
I dutifully scanned the packing slip, emailed it away and was quite pleased with myself. About a half an hour later I went to file the photocopy. I looked at the name on it and thought, "Hmmm. I don't think that's the person I emailed it to. I don't quite remember. If I email her and say, "hey, did you get a copy of this receipt by mistake she'll think I'm a few bricks short a load if I didn't send it to her. Hmmm."

And I left it at that, knowing who the right person was the next time I had to do that task, wondering still if I messed it up or not.
People are not only welcoming me in this new job, they cut me slack. Ding, ding, ding my inbox rang and there was an email that said, "I don't think you meant to send me this." She signed it with a happy face. And I could write back, "You're so right! I didn't."

There was a time when perfectionism hounded me so relentlessly that I'd have experienced a nose dive in self esteem as soon as the mistake had been revealed. I am so thankful I can grin and learn from it and carry on to other things.

Tomorrow is full of interesting new people to meet and tasks to do.
But this is today. And it's been full and satisfying.

Friendly Music

For some reason this had me in tears as I watched. I love the Sound of Music. I used to play that record when I was in college. One morning, in a fit of spite towards our downstairs neighbours, who we'd reported for a noise violation the previous night, I played the Sound of Music loud, very loud, at 7 AM. Needless to say we were not on good terms. I did try to befried them one afternoon when I was drunk. They had company, one of their mothers, over for a barbecue. I was uber friendly after being at a work related function where there were waiters walking around with wine on trays. I walked across their lawn greeting them like long lost friends. All I remember about that attempt at friendship was how they looked at me,their eyes saying, "WTF are you doing?" And because it's all about me, I wonder if they think of me when they hear this music? :)

Enough

I'm home in between two trips to town today.
I know that's crazy but it's what works
for the best for everyone involved.
In two hours I'll turn around and head back.
I'll have supper with a group of people largely unknown to me.
Not too long ago I would have copped an excuse to not show up.
It's out of my comfort zone for sure.
For whatever reason today that's okay.
I will pray that I will bring something to the situation
instead of seeing what I can get out of it.
I have no wish to be either invisible or the center of attention.
Just being me is enough.

I saw deer on the hillside as I drove to town this morning.
Too late in the morning to see the herds of elk
that have been grazing in predawn light.
Snow sculptures of every kind littered the ditches.
The sun is slowly melting piles of snow and revealing
jagged edges of snow drifts.
The sight makes me smile for some reason,
in a "die, you sucker" kind of way.

I was moseying down the card aisle at the drug store
and saw a display of Easter cards.
Now isn't it a bit redundant to have Easter cards
specifically labelled as religious?
I took a closer look and saw a multitude of ones
that weren't.
I laughed outloud at the sight.
Right.
Can't have Easter mean something
that might offend the masses.
Lord have mercy.

I chaired my home group AA meeting.
There were a fair number of people there
who I'd never seen before.
We've gone from a group that struggled to have 5 people present
to one that has almost outgrown its meeting room.
How cool is that?
I saw on one of the roundup notices that someone from
Steve-o's neck of the woods is speaking
at a round up one province over.
Instantly I thought about my secret wish to have
Pam or Mary Christine come speak at our local round up one day.
One never knows.
Wishes do come true.

My sponsor gave me a lovely little gift book today
that says on the front "The Spirit of Hope".
I love when people get who I am.

Six Words, Six Words, Six Words

Full day with friends, strangers, family.



~ Show My Face.

Regular Stuff

I have a long list of things to get done today.
Doesn't that make me feel oh, so important.
Ha. Dishes, laundry, exercise, phone for appts.
Regular stuff. Regular stuff is good.
Much better than the drama I could dream up if I wanted to.
So glad I don't want to.

However, I was just thinking of
revamping the template on my blog;
which would be fun and distract me
from doing the next right thing.

The next right thing is washing dishes.
Dirty dishes means I had the privilege of eating.
The Pug Posse is happy I'm home today.
They are vying for space at my feet.
As if the one who gets closest is more important.

If you are the praying kind
could you lift up dearest one today?
He is still suffering from the whiplash.
The doc has ordered x-rays
to rule out a compression fracture in his back.
He's in lines-etched-in-his-forehead kind of pain.
Very glad it's the end of the work week for him.

Halfway There

"I can't remember the word."

I'm sitting in my therapist's office yesterday feeling brain dead. I sit there with my head in my heads trying to think of the word I want. Eventually it comes to me although my train of thought has lost its momentum.

I now know not to book a therapy appointment at the end of my three day stint of work. I am too tired to think straight. I just want to go home and put on my pjs and watch mindless TV. We agree to cut my session short. I rebook for a later on in the month, on a day when I don't work. I'll hopefully have more brain cells by then.

I leave her office and get in my car. It's in a scary part of town. I could walk out of my therapist's office and buy drugs, booze or sex. There are always people on the sidewalk across the street from my car watching. Some days that makes me feel scared. I park as close to her office door as possible. I always want to get in my car and lock the doors. I often feel bad that I want to do that in that part of town.

I don't know why I'm writing this other than to get it out of my head. Random thoughts on a morning when I can stay in my pjs as long as I want.

Anyway, I make a u turn right on the street and head off to buy groceries. My body hurts. Yog pup has a penchant for slippers. I can't remember where I put mine, most likely somewhere out of his reach. My slippers have my insoles in them that make my feet hurt less. I love how I feel in high heels at the start of the day. By the end of the day I think they are instruments of torture. I feel every step as I push the cart into the store. Halfway there I remember that perspective is everything. One thing I've been learning the past few years is that I can turn any statement of "I have to" into "I get to". I remember that not too many years ago we had no money to buy groceries. We were regular food bank users. In my neck of the woods that was 5 bags of groceries once a month. We had three teenagers to feed. I'm thinking all this as I head into the store and rephrase my "having to buy groceries" to "I get to buy groceries". It doesn't make my feet hurt any less but my attitude improves greatly.

Gullibe Schmullible

I am so glad that no one at work knows
how gullible I can be, it being April Fool's and all.
I can laugh at myself when caught in that gullibility
and I still blush like crazy.
But I prefer not to get punked.

Today is my Friday.
Hard not to be grateful on a Friday now, isn't it?
I was laying in bed in the middle of the night,
my head swirling with things I need to do today,
and I was thinking how grateful I am that AA has taught me
to cultivate an attitude of gratitude.
When I first came back to AA I thought that a person
could only be grateful if the stars were all lined up in my favour.
I was a dead ringer for believing I was the conductor of everyone's life
and if only people would cooperate I would be happy, dammit.

I had a bit of a cynical heart.
My home group is called Gratitude 24/7.
By listening to others and then practicing a lot,
I learned how to be genuinely grateful.
It doesn't mean I pretend
I don't feel or think a certain way.
If I'm thinking "eff you" it's written all over my face.
It does mean that despite the circumstances I find myself in
I can find lots of things to be grateful about.