Carlton would question: Is “not something” anything to be grateful about? Maybe I should be grateful that there are people who are willing to trim the trees on a winter day so branches will not fall on my head.
The Asylum had no eggs today. Even during the bare grocery shelf days of early Covid the Asylum had eggs.
My world has completely washed out to sea over the last 5 days. I don’t think I have gone crazy. I think it’s my world that has gone crazy. But. I am old. I could be wrong. Perhaps I have lost my mind. Maybe the world is OK. Maybe.
Gratitude. Friends. Even ones who are cheery and planning a campaign of MeatLess Mondays because cows’ farts are bad for the environment. Beer. Even San Miguel. Because I drank the Asylum out of Guinness. Chocolate Ice Cream. Even without hot fudge. Coffee. Especially with caffeine.
Grateful to be so old that what I eat doesn’t matter.
The day started with a friend telling me “Things could be worse. You could be pregnant and wanting an abortion”