So, here it is already November. I know, right? When in hell did that happen? But yes, it’s here. So you know what that means. Turkey coma and carbo-loading? Yes. Poorly grown-in facial hair for “Movember”? (Google it, I can’t do everything) That, too– but I’m talking about gratitude. Yes, gratitude.
There is a thing going around called “30 Days Of Gratitude Challenge” meaning every day of November you write down something you are grateful for. Some people are posting these daily proclamations on Facebook. For the most part I think it’s a lovely idea, and I’ve enjoyed reading them. Scientist are finding that an attitude of gratitude is a powerful contributor to a happy life. Amen to that.
You know what else contributes to a happy life? Laughing your ass off. The cynical bitch in me just can’t help but question some of these platitudes of gratitude. The people that are posting how thankful they are for all they have on Thursday are the same greedy twats that will step on your face Black Friday morning to get the last Furby at Toys R Us. So it gives me a chuckle. Anyone that knows me well knows that underneath the smart ass attitude I am a pretty positive person. Being grateful comes naturally to me, I just don’t go around announcing it. I’m a good southern girl and know how to pen a nice thank-you note. So, in the spirit of Thanksgiving and the 30 Days, I thought I’d share some… thankful thoughts. My way. My sincere gratitude about some everyday things, beautifully wrapped in a snarky foil package. ‘Cause that’s how’s I roll. Thankyouverymuch.
Today I am grateful the election is over, although your passionate political rants really made me stop and
I am grateful for donuts and stretchy pants. Today. Tomorrow. Forever.
And thank you, American Girl catalog, for showing up every effing time the Kraken wants to check the mail with me. If she’s not around that shit goes directly in the recycle bin. How can a damn doll have a more extensive wardrobe than me? She can, but she won’t. Bitch.
I am grateful to my hairdresser, who always talks me out of fringy bangs. Even though I could totally pull it off.
I am grateful for noise-cancelling headphones when sitting next to your little angel on the plane. Yes, him singing “Wheels On The Bus” was adorable. The first 15 fucking times.
Thank you, Hoarders and Honey Boo Boo, for making me feel organized and normal. I truly redneckognize all that I have. And don’t have (namely, something called “forklift foot”).
Speaking of sexy…
I am grateful to Nordstrom department store for this sign every year. Nordies, you effing rock. Hard.
|What a novel concept.|
Thank you, Coffee ice cream, for justifying my eating dessert for breakfast. Because it’s basically iced coffee. Everybody knows that.
I’m eternally grateful for Caller I.D. Still one of life’s greatest inventions. But not when you call, of course. You, I want to talk to. Tell me more about your cat’s bad knee.
Thank you, glitter glue, for combining two of the most reviled products of motherhood into one beautiful, permanent nightmare. It really is the herpes of the crafting world.
I’m grateful for Daylight Savings Time. My kids have been going to bed an hour early for weeks. I may never change the clocks upstairs. Genius!
I’m really grateful I’ve never been smacked down by the Etiquette Ninjas. But I’d like to join their cause. I think my grandmother was a founding member. True story. She wore a lot of black.
And I’m thankful for you, dear reader. Who always encourage me to keep writing. No snark– nothing but love and thanks in this last one. No attitude– just gratitude.