Daily Archives: August 5, 2018

The 52 Lists (for Happiness) Project #32

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List the ways you can “fake it ’til you make it” in being happy:

[Well, let me start by saying, I AM happy. I have a good life, and I know it. Still, I find plenty of things to grumble about. It is in that spirit that I respond.]

  • I am so, so tired of working with the young people at the hardware store. I’m weary of their lack of care and cleanliness, their refusal to listen to or remember instructions, and their constant need for direction, lest their work day devolve into the male equivalent of a slumber party, with stories and jokes and banter. I’m tired of hearing “wasn’t me.” I am fed up with the rolled eyes and the snickering behind my back. I am exhausted from having to follow behind to set straight what has been done haphazardly. And yet, in consideration for their effort, not a one of them leaves without hearing, from me, “Thank you for all your hard work today,” to let them know they are appreciated, just in case it will make a difference.
  • When I hear, “How are you?” my answer is “Good, how are you?” Unless I am ranting to friends or family in a mutually-agreed-uponĀ  bitch-session, I think that is the right answer. No matter what.
  • Likewise, to questions about how my my job is going, my garden is growing, or my artwork is coming along, I will almost always accentuate the positive. It feels like an honest answer, even if it’s not all perfect.
  • When I come home from work, I always greet the dogs with pats and love and expressions of pleasure at seeing them. I tell them what good girls they are. Even when the laundry room is strewn with trash from the upended garbage can, I can’t manage much more negativity than a solemn, “Not good, Darla, not good.” Even when Rosa Parks has gone number two on the freshly cleaned bathroom rug and peed among the cans and papers rolling around on the laundry room floor, she gets not more than a “Really? Couldn’t hold it, Rosa?” and a slight frown. I doubt they would understand why I was scolding, if I were to scold. Why bother making them feel bad, if it won’t change anything? Better that they know, always, that they are good dogs, and that I love them.