Almost.

I'd say getting to 17 points of gratitude in a month that certainly didn't deserve any was quite a feat so GO. ME.
Points 18 - 30 consist of a love letter to my people. Because as much as I enjoy a life of hermit-ness, I rely heavily on my people to make it through every day. The 15 minute call with my mom on my ride home. The daily IM with Nicole B. that can be merely a "Hi, I heart you, you make life better" or a full blown vent-sesh that she totally doesn't have time for. I look forward to the point in my day when I see her name in my buddy list. (PS? Who at aol thought "buddy" was normal...hey 1957.) The text from Suz that let's me know she's making it through another day with strength and resolve. I miss her so much but also feel like we saw each other yesterday. The morning IM with Naz who has become one of my biggest cheerleaders. The calls with friends who have so much of their own shit to worry about, but still take on my worry as their own. My dude. Who picked my crying, heaving, snotting ass up off the floor all weekend (slash-the-past-two-years) and who believes in me enough for the both of us.
Finally, to November, for teaching me that no matter how depressed or beaten down or just effing tired I am...I will always be ok. Better than ok. The sunshine is coming...I just have to be patient. And work my ass off.

I have an effing job.

12. I have a job for the foreseeable future. I have bosses who truly want to see me succeed. I know how rare that is. For that, I am truly grateful. (Even though bitches be trippin sometimes.)

13. My mom's cooking. Specifically, her pies. My mom can THROW. DOWN. some Thanksgiving food, y'all.

14. Thanksgiving. It's my favorite.

15. My nephews. They don't know I'm a fuck up. Yet. Until then, they will continue to light up like beautiful fricking Christmas trees when I come in the room. Their laughter = happy crack.

16. Being able to come up with four (five now, bitches!) things to be grateful for on this spectacularly shitty day!! Yaaaay!

17. This:















Because...come on. Wook at the wittle DEER and the kitty!!! They're talking! I can't.

My bitches.

11. The amazing women I have met in the last 10 years of my life. Work. School. and Work again (although the last Work only has one amazing woman entry and about fourteen thousand crazy fucking bitches...sorry. FOCUS. Where was I? Gratitude.) Amazing. Women. For many years, I tried to convince myself that I didn't like chicks, that I preferred the company of dudes. Which may or may not have been true, but maybe it was the people I'd met. Or maybe that's just a tramp's excuse for sleeping with LOTS. O. BOYS. Anyway, then I became a bitter old bitch and realized that a lot of dudes suck and a lot of women are really rad. Better than rad. Life-changing phenomenal women who have the power to make you a better version of yourself. In the past two days, I have had dinner with four of these women. Monday night I had dinner with two women I met in grad school and liked instantly. Which never happens...I'm genetically predispositioned to not like/trust you on sight and then (possibly) work it out later. [Also? Is predispositioned not a word - because it's underlined...even if I add a dash. Fine. Genetic predisposition. I have one. Tangent over.]
Grad school women - we met last night to celebrate the pregnancy of one of us (no it's not me) and learned that another of us is splitting from her husband. The conversation that followed was so full of ups and downs, but mostly love. The three of us had not been in a room together since 2009...and in five minutes, we were closer than I've been to anyone. Honest, raw, real, heartbreaking. Shockingly, there were no tears, but lots of laughter. I walked away from that dinner so impressed with the resiliency of these women. And feeling much less angsty about my bullshit because really? It's all bullshit. I'm fine.
And then tonight, two women from the first Work (obviously since I have ONE FRIEND at work now that I can stand...one.) and my dude, who was friends with these two before I met any of them. We shut the place down. Over two and a half hours of non-stop talking, laughing, no...howling, and gossip. Oh the GOSSIP. We could put celeb gossip mags out of business with the collective knowledge...gotta love the biz.
Anyhoots. I LOVE the women in my life. Because contrary to what Terrence Howard told us, it's way harder out there for a bitch than it is for a pimp.

Continued...

10. No matter what happens tomorrow...I am loved.

Gratitude

I had the excellent intention at the beginning of the month that I would make November the month of gratitude...extending the idea of Thanksgiving throughout the whole month. It was to be particularly fitting in that this month is kind of a big one for me and I didn't want the stress of it to overshadow how blessed I am. So I was going to come here, every day (I know...flawed from the start) and post something I was grateful for. No matter how small. 30 days...30 things I'm grateful for.
Instead, I forgot about it and the month is halfway over...and here we are. But better late than never, right? So to catch up, here are some things I am grateful for.

1. My mom. I know none of you saw that coming! But seriously guys...she's an amazing woman and my best friend.
2. My dude. Even when things suck, there isn't anyone else I'd rather work through life's issues with. And when things are great...they're really fucking awesome.
3. My girlfriends. I have some of the most amazing women in my life - as evidenced by my birthday. It was the first time I'd mingled so many different people in my life...usually I'm an expert at keeping everyone separate because I think that's how I like it. And I'm not one for crowds. But Friday night, a few of these chicks from various parts of my life came together and it was lovely.
4. My kitty. Yup. I said it.
5. My job. To have one, first and foremost. Also, to have one in which I am learning daily and am surrounded by people who are genuinely interested in my growth.
6. My apartment. All of my issues with my place stem from me being lazy and not ransacking the hell out of my belongings but I really do love my cozy little apartment. I just need to throw away 60% of what I own.
7. My brain. Although I contend that dumb people are happier, I am grateful for the brain I have.
8. The butterfly at work. I'm sure there isn't only one but it seems like it because whenever I sit outside for lunch...I see one single butterfly. Sometimes flying around the trees, sometimes in the grass, sometimes against the cement buildings. It makes me so happy.
9. This video. Because if there's anything cuter in the whole world, I haven't seen it. I mean. Endless amounts of joy.

That's enough for this evening but it was a good exercise before going to bed. I need to remind myself more often how truly fucking awesome my life is.

Confession

I am stressed.
There. I said it.
HAPPY NOW BRAIN? Now maybe you'll stop fucking with me.
Hello everyone. I'm a represser. I will repress and repress until I sit straight up in bed, unable to get a full breath. Until I am so far into a binge-sesh that I'm contemplating purging. Which I never do, because I'm a pussy. SO that equals compulsive overeating, in case you were keeping track. Which, in turn, leads to me missing three weeks of WW because I'm embarrassed I can't have a normal relationship with food.
My self-destructive nature knows no bounds. And I guess what amazes me most is that even when my life is going swimmingly (yes. swimmingly.) my brain will invent things to be upset about. Is that some kind of disorder? Because I'm pretty sure it is. Some kind of hereditary crazytown disorder where one is completely incapable of just BEING HAPPY and enjoying the mothereffing RIDE every once in a while. Sheez.
Also? It's kind of amazing that just writing all that makes me feel a bit better.

I feel pretty (see also: sarcasm font)

My 32nd birthday is in less than a month. It's not something I particularly feel like celebrating. Not that I'm all OH GOD THIRTY TWO. It's more of a...huh. 32 eh? Alrighty then. Biological clock is ticking but the alarm isn't ringing. I'm happily boo'd up and on the path to forever but not quite ready for marital bliss and all the work that entails. I'm progressing in my career but not quite at the stage I thought I'd be at this point. There's a lot of...on the verge. On the cusp. On the brink. Yeah. There's a whole lot of vergey, cuspy, brinky shit going on.
Feel kind of like Tony. Who knows...Something's Coming. That has always been my least favorite song from Westside Story and what was coming to Tony was catching Maria's brother with the wrong end of a shiv and then fucking death. So it's no surprise that this ALMOST place I find myself in makes me uncomfortable. And by uncomfortable, I mean anxious, frustrated, sad and all around awesome. If I were to garner any kind of perspective, I'd tell myself to calm the fuck down. But that would require me to stop beating myself up and, well, that's just unheard of.