- I’m still breathing.
- I’m doing that in a safe place, if messy and overrun with over a decade of postponed clean-ups, fix-ups, organization plans, and all but the most basic, very occasional dusting and recently, dish clean-ups.
- I have enough to eat, clean water to drink, a husband who seems to love me in spite of it all, and this lumpy little misery of a mattress to sleep on. Which, by the way, is probably better than what most of Royalty had available to them until the early 20th C, never mind everyone else.
4. Most of the world would kill for my bad days.
5. It could be worse.
Other times, it’s just a prolonged, sort of pale reminder of The Troubles, the five-plus years that I spent completely bedbound and semi-comatose, and a place I really don’t want to go back to. I mean, it was instructive and all (I feel compelled to say that), but there’s little to be learned from the second kick of a mule. Which is another Rule of Life I adhere to firmly.
Which is pretty much where I am right now, which might explain why the biting cynicism of the above made me laugh out loud.
Inquiring minds, doncha’ know …..
