Cabbages and Kings

Talk about being late this morning. It still is morning, but only barely. It's 1140h and I'm just getting back to this. I'm not actually late for everything, I just got a bit out of order this morning.

Pretty soon I'll have to go get Ashton at driving. I got off on other things and was working on the flood story and answering emails, etc. Then I remembered that I hadn't yet checked in here. So here I am.

My hands are already pretty warm so I'll just catch up on the other things. It's a beautiful day out and I'm feeling good. The more I think of it, the more I'm surprised that being happy is it's own punishment.

The people who least want to hear about your happiness are the people you'd think would be happiest. If you're happy and you know it, shut your mouth, ought to be the title of this piece. Happiness as a concept is an end that ought to stay in the distance. If you want to piss people off, tell them you're happy.

Odd, yes?

So, closet happiness is the new family shame. Did you hear about Edna's husband? What? He's uh, happy. Really! Poor woman, how do you live with that?

It seems that if we don't reach the promise land together then we must pull those early arrivals back over the border of the miserable. Let's talk instead of how we plan and what we'll do to make ourselves happy, and then join me in a prayer to maintain our connection to the rest of mankind through shared unhappiness.

Enough of that. I don't deserve to be this happy. Isn't that the truth. Clearly, I'm disordered and delusional. What do you do with someone who mistakenly thinks they're happy. There's the next story!

More later.