Our family is healthy. I'm not divorced, separated or widowed (but have friends that are all of the above). It's not raining in my kitchen from leaking pipes. My daughter isn't pregnant (nor my son's girlfriend). My son hasn't been arrested for dealing drugs or theft to pay for said illegal substances. My coffee is sweet and hot beside me.
Why, with all that i have going for me, do i still wake with a dread of the little things that make me crazy? Why do i allow my son's "not working up to potential" get on my last nerve and rob me of the happiness that should be mine? Why does my daughter's inability to manage her life without my picking up the slack (pack my lunch, drive me to school, wake me at 5:00 so that i can do the homework that i didn't do last night while i was out with my friends) drag me in? I won't even start on being two close flying planes with Joe. I can see him out the window but we seem to pass in different flight patterns (thank goodness for non-sleeping air traffic controllers!).
Off to wake my son, drive my daughter to school and come home to clean. Yes, it's a blessing to have the flexibility to be able to drive them hither and yon and to be cleaning my beautiful house on a friday morning instead of slaving away at a job that i hate. I just need to restart my mood and, like the Partridges used to sing, "come on, get happy!"
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1GgIWuBeDrE
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