… is more important than what’s in your wallet. I found my license btw, in my wallet. I don’t know how I missed it! Maybe it has superpowers.
My bedroom makes me happy. It is my sanctuary. Everyone needs a refuge – I prefer mine to be a place rather than a person. I don’t have a sanctuary thing. I want to tell you I have a happy home, but I’d be lying. But home cannot be happy all the time right?
Disclaimer: This is my opinion based on limited empirical evidence only.
We have pain scales, which, I think, is part of everyone’s vernacular, but generally, we don’t consider happiness in the same way unless the question gets asked in therapy. We are either happy or unhappy.
On a scale of one to ten, how satisfied are you with yourself today?
At this moment, I are an eight-point-seven-five on the happiness scale, which works for me! I don’t have to be a ten all the time. That would be weird. But I am weird and that’s ok. I would like to spread my toxic happiness to you.
Dad’s in Montreal until mid-December. I plan to go hang out with him next month!
And now, If you’ll excuse me, I must escape to my boudoir to frolic in my unmentionables.
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