1. Today’s poem at the Writer’s Almanac, Regret by Louise Jenkins. Giving up on regret and anger are great gifts to remind myself to try to do, daily.
2. That I have a great retail job where I mostly don’t have to deal with customers except right around this time of year, and even when I do, it’s with well-paid coworkers with great attitudes, so when the customers have meltdowns over insignificant stuff, it rolls off our backs and we’re able to laugh.
3. That I have too much to do at work but I’m paid for all of it and paid well, overtime, too, which is a compliment, because being asked to cover extra stores on top of my own and being able to do it is a testament to my coworkers’ belief in my skills and my ability to manage my stress and depression and anxiety. That I feel a little bit of a victorious inner “fuck you” toward people I no longer associate with who told me that I was generally not capable and probably prone to all-over collapse (I only exaggerate just a bit) after my big fat nervous post-lawyer breakdown and who generally acted like my depression and anxiety was the end of my life except when they wanted something from me? Well, yeah. Fuck them.
4. That I have already booked myself a long weekend off, away, all by myself, right after Annual Enrollment is over, for a little R & R and self-care.
5. That my father’s newly diagnosed congestive heart failure and low-salt diet with all its attendant restrictions and fatigue still mean that he’s around to complain that he misses the salt.
6. That I have real work to do, that yields real results, and doesn’t just put more stuff out there in the world. I got someone their health insurance back this month. And helped someone else secure a mortgage.
7. That even though check-ins have been harried and infrequent because everyone’s busy, I have great friends and family who have cared enough to check in.
8. That I seemed to have kicked the flu, finally. (Small graces.)
9. That yeah, it was damned painful, but I shed some painful and/or unhelpful relationships these last two months, and while it’s going to stink to go out and find new ones because I’m a total introvert and I don’t do trust well, at least I don’t have to deal with the doubt I felt as a result of interacting with those folks anymore.
10. That I have a nice, small meal to prepare today that will, I hope, be tasty, and allow me some creative time in the kitchen– even without the salt.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.