Now what will I do with all that indignation?

I came to this laptop intending to write a dolorous entry about life and hot weather and women and children and marriage and missed opportunities and deadlines and aggravations and short-for-times and woe-be-me's and not suffering fools gladly and a great galumphing host of that which we call self-pity.

Then someone turned me around with a sentence.

And it was all icing, kittens, and torn-up bills suddenly.  I got caught up the day's birthdays wishes and couldn't get the cheeky grin off my face.  I'm sure it will buoy me 'till I get to sleep.

It didn't remove the underlying melancholic episodes.  It just demonstrated how easily I bob back to the surface, given the slightest positive oomph.  I daresay that this is entirely what being "an optimist" is all about.  How extraordinary!

No doubt I'll have the other entry ready in a day or two, though I'll be even more disappointed with myself because I didn't get the good ideas out of my head while I had them the first time.  It won't be as good the second time around, but of course you won't really notice that.

Lucky you!

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