Drunk with Happiness
This morning I noticed the mess I had made in my kitchen the previous night. Foggy memory as always after a night of shiraz. Not that I'm an extremely neat person, as living alone gives me that right, but I have a particular brand of messiness when I'm drunk. I come home make food and 90% of the time leave it out until the morning. My only reminder of what transpired the night before. This morning it was a half eaten tray of mozzerella sticks and the pasta I was making for lunch the next day, and the marshmallows I was going to use to make rice krispy treats for work.
Ok so I get drunk and make messes and leave them to clean up in the morning, if I feel so moved to do so. But I wasn't drunk. There was no shiraz-ing. Just utter happiness. The kind that you only notice when people smile back at you walking down the street because for once you are actually smiling at them and your cheeks hurt because you've been laughing all day. Laughing the way I only do, when my cheeks stick out and my eyes get squinty. And if it's something terribly funny, my right eye closes all the way. That's how yesterday went. I laughed 95% of the day.
Maybe it was the thought of upward dog, downward dog hot yoga that night.
Maybe it was that I fell out of like and I hate being in like so much so that I am inevitably miserable.
Maybe it was realizing how completely obsessed with my friends.
Maybe it was the compliments that a boss gave me yesterday morning.
Maybe it was that Bank of America isn't really so evil.
Maybe it was knowing that pay day was just around the corner.
Maybe it was Salinger.
It's little things that make me happy and a lot of little things makes me ecstatic. Whatever it was, I loved it. I was in such a good mood for the rest of the day that it spilled over to the evening, which is where we began. My messy kitchen and me barely remembering how it got that way.
The best part...no hangover.