I feel like I need to preface this by apologizing as I might be coming off lately as a bit of a fixed record over here. Clearly, you can see what I did there. That’s just the thing. Nothing is broken. Everything is super fixed, practically.
Life is good. Really good. In fact, so good that I was brought to watery eyes counting my blessings last night. Sure, I’m fresh out of another surgery. I’ve been sedated, manhandled, sliced ‘n diced but I’m in fantastic spirits.
My kids are still on a health spree, my book is still being published, it’s the countdown to the happiest day of the year and I’m seeing a member of the opposite sex (and rather happily). Oh there’s more but those are the juiciest and most pleasant notables on my docket, to be certain.
Feeling repetitively amazing should be rejoiced. Lord knows I’ve shared my negative bleatings enough in darker ongoing moments of the recent past. Expressing oneself in the thralls of jubilation should be a most welcome gesture.
I dreamt that I was drinking the bottom quarter of a pint of beer last night. I only make note of it to say that firstly that’s gross and secondly it’s yet another reminder of the great place that I’m in. The days melt together but onwards I creep to that eight months of sobriety and it feels darn good to just say no. Yes it does.
I want to reside in this stratosphere a bit longer, in fact, as long as I can. Without fatal weights pulling me down I am able to levitate here unconditionally. Life isn’t naive bliss but I am far from the fires of hades. And so shall I remain. There’s more than enough room for you to join me. All y’all.