Some things are cool and they make me happy. Little things–like waking up in a panic at 8:30am and then realizing it’s Saturday and I don’t have to be at work. That feeling is beyond great. I go back to sleep with a smile on my face–really, I do.
Listening to a song that I never heard before and knowing right away I love it (Thursday) and it will be playing on heavy rotation soon. That’s a pretty cool feeling–because honestly, sometimes I worry and think to myself–”What if I never hear any new music that I like again for the rest of my life?”. So when I come across a tune that I am really feeling–I am reminded that it’s somewhat impossible to never discover new favs. Yeah, so that makes me happy.
Drinks with friends mixed with the laughter that hurts –well that tickles my heart.
Riding the subway early in the morning, getting pushed by rude short Asian women and almost getting killed trying to find a place to sit, and then having to end up standing in front of someone eating steamed dumplings at 9am DOES NOT make me happy. That’s so….the antithesis of happiness. I hate that person. I hate those steamed dumplings. I hate the 7 train.
The memory of the MTA strike makes me happy, because that is when I forced myself to take the LIRR instead to get to work. That was, I hope, the beginning of the end of my steamed dumpling stench in the morning life.
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