Every once in a while, I have the kind of morning that makes my usual half-hearted bitching and moaning completely uncalled for. The kind of morning that makes me want to stop to consider just how damned good my life is.
This was one of those mornings.
And damn, but I do have it good.
I have two absolutely beautiful children who are smart and kind and imaginative and funny. I have a wonderful husband, who is likewise smart and kind and imaginative and funny. I have a wonderful family who lives close enough that I can visit them regularly, and I have in-laws that I love enough I wish they lived close enough to visit them regularly. I'm fairly healthy, barring a few minor problems. The people I love, likewise.
I have wonderful friends who care about me and never take our friendship for granted. Better still, my friends' kids are friends with my kids (I never much got along with the kids of my parents' friends, so it's something I can't take for granted). And my friends' kids are almost as fantastic as my own kids, even from my own completely biased viewpoint.
I make a pretty good amount of money (not to get into details publicly, of course). Moreover, I have as much job security as anyone does in this economy, and if I don't care for the job itself much, I couldn't ask for better co-workers or a more fantastic boss. I've realized my childhood dream of becoming a published author (even if it's not the genre I would have picked back then -- or even known existed) and am expanding that dream to include publication editing. My husband fully supports my writing, and so does my boss: I'm about to negotiate a change to my job that will make it easier to pursue my writing dreams.
I'm feeling good. Feeling grateful for everyone and everything wonderful in my life.
It's not the usual way to start off a Monday. But I think I like it.