We all have things that make us feel happy even if there are wolves howling at the door and teenagers baying at the fridge. Little rituals or routines or even habits that lift the spirit and improve the mood. For this list let’s talk about the simple ones. You don’t have to go to some exotic island to feel good. (Although I wouldn’t shake a stick at it). You just have to know what you like.
#1. Hot beverages. Mostly I’m a coffee drinker, but I consume my share of hot tea as well. I’m not fit for human company until I’ve had at least one cup of coffee in the morning. Throw in a little milk, bypass the sugar – I’m a happy camper. For some reason that I’ve never been able to figure out, in the Fall I like flavored coffees or creamers, although the rest of the year I avoid them like the plague. Go figure.
However, I really only drink coffee in the morning, so from then on it’s tea for me. Sometimes I make cardamom tea because it reminds me of my dad, but mostly I just drink black tea with milk and sugar. Or Earl Grey or Constant Comment, both of which I love. When I was sick when I was little my mom would make me Constant Comment and float orange slices in it. Aaahhh….
#2. Squishy socks. I absolutely, completely adore thick, soft socks. I’m not as crazy about scratchy ones, even when they’re warm, but I’ll still wear them. I can’t even honestly say that my feet are always cold, because they aren’t. I just love socks. Maybe I’m related to Albus Dumbledore and have a familial sock fetish.
On days I work I have my lucky socks. They’re plain old white athletic socks from Costco but they make me wiggle my toes with happiness all day. They are the best athletic socks ever. I always wear my battered black Crocs at work and the combination of squishy socks and comfy crocs rocks.
My world anyway.
#3. A Clean House. At heart I’m really a tidy, organized
person. I just happen to live in a home full of rabid sloths. I love a clean house. I don’t even mind doing the cleaning, to tell the truth. What demoralizes me is how fast all my work gets undone. Between the kids and the dogs, I don’t have a chance.
This starts a vicious cycle. I get disgusted because the house is a sty, so I stop even trying to keep up with it. On one hand this eliminates the problem of having my work trashed, but then eventually I turn into bitch woman because I hate living in a filthy house. Ultimately one day I get so angry that I go on a furious cleaning spree and I feel good. Until it gets destroyed again.
But it sure does feel good while it lasts.
Tag. You’re It.