practice 'Happiness Manifesto' periodically

my job, particularly this project:

• learning a great deal about web stuff
• strengthening my general work habits
• figuring out how to deal with stress
• making many contacts
• getting plain-language training and experience

• doing something very important and ambitious
• having one boss who’s very supportive

• the procedure I need won’t be as involved or disabling as I’d feared
• sleep
• music
• low humidity
• the Quoddy Tides – keeps me up with what’s going on in far downeast Maine

• health insurance, and an ability to understand medical literature
• black beans and romaine lettuce, among other things
• my web designer who’s keeping me on track in the face of chaos
• a chance to cry and be listened to
• instincts

• fitting my car into a tight spot in the bowels of a hotel parking garage
• not eating everything in sight, my usual habit at buffets, receptions, and meetings
• saying no to stress
• having good attention for good scientific sessions
• feeling the freedom to accept an invitation yesterday from my web designers for a leisurely lunch, and not letting my boss make me feel guilty for not racing up to Baltimore the moment I was done with the business part of the meeting.
• love from my advocate friends, three brilliant Jewish New York ladies

• work tasks that have closure, others that are straightforward and self-directed, and leaving for 2 days without worrying that something is hanging over my head
• a chance to deviate from my usual routine
• finishing something in the fridge before having to throw it out, even no-brainers like pound cake or lime for my G&T
• spicy homemade potato chips, dipped in mango sauce, from the Indian sandwich shop by the office
• finding my other fountain pen – if it works, I won’t have to buy a new one (EDIT: it works!)

• mostly non-muggy summer weather
• improvement in my tennis
• working toward reconciliation with my music friends, tough as it is under the circumstances
• the clerk at Barnes & Noble initiating a conversation with me in Spanish, when I bought two novels.
• a merely incomplete state of dementia: I paid for a cup of coffee and then forgot to pick it up (went back and got it a few minutes later), but I was able to find my way home afterwards, and even remembered to get milk at the grocery store

• the longest days of the year
• moving past utter despair and gradually figuring out what I need to do to push through the enormous, painful problem related to my teacher and the songbook
• texting, email, phone, im: many paths to communication nirvana
• measured steps in the face of accumulated sleep debt
• a dinner invitation, even though I might have to decline becauseutter exhaustion, realistically, presents me from being my sparkling self

• my instincts about a friend’s interest in co-counseling turning out to be right
• free evenings, to be productive or squander deliciously as I see fit
• good feedback on my work, and the gradual disappearance – at least for now – of the feeling that that I can’t do anything right
• fresh limes in various summer cocktails
• getting to know smart people who can make me laugh and take myself less seriously

a much-better-than-expected weekend:

• two tennis games
• new shoes
• quality time with close friends
• sushi
• flirting

^{and still getting a little work done…}

• the class I went to tonight on the Jews of Latin America. Two great cultures rolled into one! (except, of course, that within each there are many more cultures) What I still don’t get – with all due respect – is how the pasty-skinned Chabadniks in San Juan, PR, manage to get anyone down there to eat their lousy Ashkenazi kosher catering. Give me vegetarian arroz con frijoles y mofongo any day.
• walking home after the class and chatting with my Dad on my cell about genealogy
• strawberry shortcake for dinner last night
• the return of a sense of internal locus of control
• a tennis game lined up for Sunday, with cooler weather expected