Choosing to be happy and patient and low-key.
What exactly does it mean to be low-key? And though I’m calm as fuck 99.99% of the time, is low-key ever the words I used to describe myself? Low maintenance? Low energy? Low trouble? I’m as Type A as they come, motherfuckers…
I am a freaking dichotomy. And so if I describe myself here one day, be assured that in a few days, it’s going to change. No, not bipolar. Though of course now that I have started to have emotions, I’m at liberty to experience highs and lows however my hormones and neurotransmitters see fit…
So. I’m grateful for my sanity pills. Usually they come in the form of a friendly acquaintance here and there. I don’t care to get really close to many folks (it hurts when those relationships end), but I have lots of friendly acquaintances whom I really really enjoy. I digress, though.
I’m grateful for my opportunities, for every minute of time I’ve been gifted, and for the health of my PURRRFECT family of four humans, four furbabies, and eight feathered friends. We. Are. Awesomely. Healthy.
I’m grateful for a roof over our heads and the finances to pay our bills.
And I’m grateful that I have the industriousness to say, “Oh, you want me to be low-key? Okay, fine. I’ll just knit a beanie here for the next few hours and do my laundry.”