a few of my favorite things

working night shift does crappy things to your brain. It messes with your emotions and your mental health, especially if you aren't getting any sleep for three of the several days you work because you happen to be a mom, too, and kids don't understand night shift. But that is neither here nor there, it just is what it is. I used to be such a cheerful, happy person, fairly compassionate, and then I got pneumonia at the end of october, and was in bed for two weeks, and by the time I got back to work- still sick, mind you- I realized that most of the people in the emergency room as patients were less ill than I was. And that made me a little bit pissy.

Anyway, I decided this morning that I need an attitude adjustment, and the best way I know how to do that is to make a list of all the things I love, and all the things I'm thankful for. So here it is. . .my freaking joy list:

my bed, with its cushy top and down comforter; the color combination of pink and green, tulips and daffodils, ranunculus and windflowers; my son's toothy grin, lying in bed with movies, books, and a notebook, poetry penned on napkins and restaurant coasters, found poetry, colors so gorgeous and vivid I want to pop out my eyeballs and soak them in it, rainbows after a violent storm, the warmth of my lover next to me in winter, lying naked in front of a fireplace, pears and cheese with wine, the perfect pair of jeans, or failing that, the near-perfect pair of jeans, Jembosaults, my daughter's uncensored laughter, the way an iv feels going into a vein just right, coffee so strong and thick a spoon stands up in it, realizing that you can live without a certain someone but you'd really rather not, sitting under a tree on a blanket in the summertime, sundresses and sunhats in the garden, flip flops, toe rings, chokers, piercings, tattoos, LuLu Guinness glasses, grippy toes, bare feet, hot tubs, hiking, camping, snowboarding, views that take my breath away, my mama's hugs, spending time with my family, how loose and lovely my body gets after 15 hard minutes on the treadmill, dancing away all my give-a-shit, strong bass I can feel in my bones, listening to my deaf son sing, any music with real soul, books I can get lost in, home- not necessarily the place you live, but a place that feels so right you don't want to leave, wet kitty noses, the smell of old books in leather bindings, art almost as old and grand as god- the Sistine Chapel, the statue of David, you know what I mean-, mud between my toes, my children's safety, good friends who love me unconditionally, recovering from a Sylvia Plath moment, redheaded sisters, geminis, astrology, handwritten letters, love letters, getting flowers, gifts that show somebody's listening, affection, public displays of affection, mail slots, running my hands over the Rock Star's shaved head, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, lips so soft I want to suck them off, holding babies (and then giving them back!), hot showers, lavender plants, rose oil, necklaces, clothes I can change with my mood, secrets, massages, interior design, getting down to the nitty gritty in a relationship and really knowing the soul of someone else, fuzzy socks, text messaging, all the Lou Whos, fingerpainting, love and being loved, trust, and last but not least, R E S P E C T.