Being Thankful

It is that time of year when I purposely count my lucky stars, assess my stress level, determine my "budget" (HAHAHAHAHAHAHA..... whewwwww that was a good word) for Christmas, change the batteries in my smoke alarms and clock radios, prepare for the return of darkness at 5 pm, and fight my inner desire for comfort food. It is also the time of year that energizes me the most because nature simply amazes me as it prepares to sleep.

I also pull out the winter togs and, generally pray that the pants will still fit and that the blouses will still button over my boobs. This year there was room for celebration in the fit department but woe is meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.... the colors aren't right. I stopped coloring my hair and where there was red there is now gray. Lots - o - gray.

Gone is my ability to wear redhead warm colors. I'm back to my cool blue tones and that means I have to have a yard sale. Oh boy :::: eyeroll :::::

The gray is actually kind of elegant. I really didn't know what color my hair would be since I installed the color wheel on my drivers license. People are giving me positive comments so I must not look like an old lady, though they may be fibbing. Regardless, 99 cent shampoo is awesome and now I can go swimming whenever I want to and not worry about my hair color.

As my thankfulness list grows longer, I've decided I'm the luckiest damn woman in the world. I have a car that runs, a cat with three legs that is totally cool, two kids that make me proud every day, a roof over my head, the best job and co-workers in the world, the best boss in the world, and in less than a week there will hopefully be an end to the eight years presidency of George Bush.

We will save all political statements until November 5th.

It is also the time of year where I reflect on my upcoming birthday. That is a post for the future, however, because it involves all sorts of ruminations that I don't have time for today.

I also have a partner that I'm thankful for. We fit together well, but not perfectly. I think as long as he lives in his house and I live in mine, things will be fine and our relationship will survive for years. If we were under the same roof, it would have to be an apartment building with two separate domociles. It simply works out better that way. We like our spaces and our privacy.

The older I get the more I like aloneness. I've become more comfortable with it and actually look forward to the quiet. I remember being antsy when there was nobody around me but that was in my youth and my socialibility scale was much grander and more of a priority. GAWD, am I on my way to becoming a recluse? hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

I'm also thankful for my breasts which have retained their youthfulness and substance. This is indeed a blessing.

I'm thankful for the "tramp stamp" tattoo I got when I was 50. This will entertain the staff in the nursing home and eventually the people who cremate me. It reminds me that I don't fit the mold and that it's OK to be that way.

Square Pegs Unite!