I guess I really am a lot better because now when people say "how are you?" I reply, "fine." Or even, "I'm great." Up until recently if anyone asked me how I was, I would say, "miserable." So I'm back to just plain lying by saying "fine," without the need to really update everyone with the being "miserable" part, because I'm not miserable. I'm never going to be "fine" about what happened. I'll move on and grow and stretch and sleep well and everything, but it's never going to be okay with me what went down.
And the truth is, I'm actually feeling pretty good. I like this more-light-during-the-day thing going on. That rocks. I can feel spring in the air and that totally makes me happy. I'm living into a future of longer days and warmer air. That feels really good. Just in itself. I don't need other reasons to be happy. I'm pretty close to being able to find the twonie that was buried in the ice between my car and my steps. One of my neighbours may find it first, but it's so in my normal path that I figure it's probably really mine. Plus I drop stuff all the time (iPod, phone, ugh) in the 10 steps between my door and my car so it's quite typical.
I bought myself a big bunch of pink roses today. I'd been thinking of doing it for awhile, but I always end up deciding it's not a great way to spend my limited funds. Cut flowers, what an extravagance. But I did it. Cut them under water, put them in a nice vase with water and that little packet of stuff you're supposed to mix in, and they're there on the counter. From me, to me. Sweet.
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