Happiness

I don't need a lot to make me happy. Coffee with half and half and 2 sugar cubes does it. That makes me happy. Concert tee shirts and scratchy cotton sweats. An ice cold Diet Coke. Popcorn. Toast with butter. Engaging TV. (Watch Reservation Dogs!) Good books. Watching my husband's face as he sleeps. Writing a story. That's happiness.

And my dogs. Now that Frodo is gone, I should say dog. But I still feel Frodo. Not only because I spent 15 years with that shih tzu, but I picked up his ashes. So he is quite literally here downstairs. 

Now I know I've been all gloom and doom, but for real, I'm more than a tad depressed. I have had bouts with anxiety in my forties but not a whole lotta depression. That was my teenage years and some of my thirties. Seriously, I forgot how draining it is. 

That said, I pledge to be happy again. Or at least content. Get a therapist. Focus on my health. Try and write an actual structured story for class.

Plus, work is busy, my calendar is full with readings and signings, and my niece/goddaughter Sophie is having a baby. So much to be grateful for. I know this. 

And as I sit here, drinking my coffee, I pick up Chewbacca who's curled up in a ball in the corner, and say, in his little caramel colored face, "We're gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay."