I jump into Facebook and I'm confronted everyday with happy people; friends and family who wake up with positive, mental attitudes. Were they born this way? Did they pop out of the womb smiling and chanting happy mantras?
Even before I open my eyes in the morning, Tank, my fluffy, smelly, not-so-clean Lhasa Apso, is sticking his tongue in my ear. Even though this is gross, it makes me grin. I find it pleasantly amusing in an odd, sort of way. I hear Tulip, my Shih Tzu, having nightmares and growling because she believes that her nemesis, Tank, is near and about to encroach upon her personal space. This also makes me smile. I open an eye, trying to avoid Tank's so he won't demand his morning belly rub, and I see my husband Eric, drooling across from me. My husband's lips are flapping and I'm tempted - in my naughty Breezy way - to stick my finger across them to see what happens. I've done it a hundred times before. The poor man's blue, bloodshot eyes will bulge open. He'll sit up shocked and confused wondering what's going on. I'll burst into laughter. Eric will grin because he loves my giggling regardless of whether it's at his expense or not.
Why does Eric, my love, my husband put up with my nonsense? This August, August 19th to be exact, we'll be celebrating our 17th Wedding Anniversary. We've been joined at the hip in romantic bliss for 18 years and friends since, well heck...ask Eric..he seems to have the exact figures these days. I just know it's been since high school.
There hasn't been a day, a single, solitary day that's gone by where we haven't laughed out loud at something ridiculous. Now, I don't know about you, my dear friends and blog readers, but if that doesn't qualify as something - a Dixie cup, a 2-liter bottle, a glass half full o' happy - I don't know what does - and yet I wander through the day moaning and groaning, whining and complaining about life in general. I'm just a walking bundle o' pissiness.
Perhaps my sarcasm makes other people see the ridiculousness of their ways? Perhaps this is my calling -to show you just how silly I can be. You see, I'm on the top of my game when it comes to complaining. I believe I'm one of the best. When the confessional doors open, I warn sinners behind me to stand in the other line 'cause I'm going to be a awhile. I've actually heard sighs of relief when I've left the priest. I can be exhausting.
So there it is...I've answered my own question. I'm not a half empty kind o' gal, I'm actually half full! The issue is that I have too much to say, so much to point out that I get extremely thirsty. I'm drinking out of my Dixie cup all day long and of course everyone knows that Dixie cups don't hold very much to begin with - those awful, stupid cups. Who invented them anyway? Mr. Dixie? By the way, what kind of a name is that?