THANKFUL! I am it.
- I’m thankful for Ruckus even though I don’t think Loki is thankful for Ruckus. (Ruckus is a pain in the ass.)
- I’m thankful that my son’s library at school allows parent volunteers. I love watching kids move through the bookshelves and bring their selections to me to be scanned.
- I’m thankful for my writing group, both the bigger one where a large group gets together and does prompt-based writing, and for the new, smaller one where a few fellow writers and I gather for write-alongs. There’s nothing like being in a quiet room with focused wordsmiths and one blurts out, “If you woke up on a horse, would you be riding in front of someone, like with their arms around you, or would you be like … face-down and sort of hugging the horse while someone walks the horse along?”
- I’m thankful that this question was immediately followed by us acting out what we thought the right description would be.
- I’m thankful to be at an age when purchasing AND enjoying Werther’s Original Candies is not only acceptable but encouraged. Middle-aged bitches with pockets full of fancy little caramel candies are my people.
- I’m thankful for people who say “care-a-mel” (like Gargamel) and not “car-mel” (like the wrong way).
- I’m thankful for good books (oh Catherine Newman, your writing is so good and I’ll have something more in depth about that another time but man, her writing is hitting me directly in the gut parts these days).
- I’m thankful for good TV. Pluribus is wild. Man on the Inside is charming af. I laughed out loud at Platonic (often on the treadmill which made for wonky walks).
- I’m thankful that the NP at my endocrinologist’s office was available for an appointment before the chaos of the holidays hits, and that my A1C result was a lot freaking better than the at-home spot check I did a few weeks ago. I’m relieved, actually. I thought it was going to be a garbage A1C, aka trashlabs.
- I’m thankful for my friends. Full stop. They rule.
- I’m thankful for insulin. That glass bottle holds open the window of my existence. I would hug it but the bottles are mad small so it would look dumb to hug it so instead I buy sweaters for it.
- … of course I didn’t buy a sweater for my insulin. Don’t be ridiculous.
- I made one:
- And yes, you can bet your sweet behind that I busted out the light box to take a picture of ye olde Humalog with his sweater on. So cozy! So handmade! So expensive!
- But yeah, you’re right: I need to get better at using the light box because that photo skews amateur and I was aiming for editorial. This vial has a story.
- I’m thankful for my kids. They aren’t so little anymore and while I miss the littleness, I love, love, love their clever, kind, and fiercely loyal personalities. Best kids ever.
- I’m thankful that we’re able to buy groceries, pay our heating bill, and access necessary medicine. And I’m thankful that my husband and kids are safe and healthy … even as we cough our way through this particular season.
