Just when I think I'm getting the hang of this gratitude thing, I go and bury my thankfulness beneath the rubble of some seriously ungrateful griping. Today it was about feeling worn down to the nubs but somehow not quite full-on sick.1 About how green it makes me that, as of 7 p.m., my husband's officially on vacation until November 30. About the shitstorm I have to get through before I can take my (much shorter) Thanksgiving break with him next week.
But in the aisles of our local Stop & Shop tonight2, the radio launched into the Chaka Khan version of "I'm Every Woman" and Mike busted into an impromptu dance down the length of the natural food aisle: Get-out-of-jail-free giddiness? Legs jerking like they're in a conga line? Fists drumming the air like he just don't care? Impassioned falsetto sing-a-long? Check, check, check, and check.
It's hard to stay grumpy when someone's bliss has bubbled over into dancing-in-the-supermarket abandon. And while vicarious bliss isn't quite as sweet as actual bliss, it's something to hold onto on a swamptastic day. I may have spent most of today feeling ungrateful and grumpy, but I'm choosing to end the day grateful that my husband's vacation high spreads faster than the swine flu among runny-nosed toddlers. It's all in me, baby. It's all in me!
1I absolutely credit this to my dramatically improved nutrition of late.
2We've found that if you can stand shopping amongst weirdos, closing time on Friday is the easiest time to navigate the grocery store.
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