Finding Thanks

In the past, I have been accused of being optimistic to the point of Pollyanna. I know; it's hard to believe. The cynical, jaded Pobble that optimistic. It is, however, truer than I often like to admit. I truly believe things will work out. Maybe it's years working domestic violence and the perspective that gave me. Maybe it's being hospitalized at 17 for depression and the perspective that gave me. Maybe it's four years with a really excellent therapist and the perspective that gave me. Maybe it's just foolhardiness. I don't know. I do know that, eventually, I come out of my funk and start putting one foot in front of the other and then...something happens. I remember that, whatever it is, it isn't forever. Guess where I've gotten over the last three weeks?

Because there is still so much for which to be thankful:
* I'm going through this with Lithus by my side;
* when the Lovely Cats said "let me throw you a birthday party" we said "okay" instead of deciding to be somewhere else between the Oregon job and the Malaysia one;
* there wasn't another gig after my birthday party so we hung out here at the Cathouse, instead of ending up in Utah or somewhere, stuck, with no one and nowhere to go;
* unemployment insurance;
* the fact that we do have a place to be, to live, to stay, until the answers start being "when can you start" instead of "nothing right now";
* the timing on the sale of the jeep ~ and the fact that the deal hadn't quite closed;
* the knowledge that if it turns out we really need to be on the west coast or the gulf coast, we have places we can be there, too;
* that Lithus is discovering what this kind of family means;
* that I know what this kind of family means.

And it's the holiday season, for which I am always thankful because, well, it's the holidays.

Blessed be, everyone. May you find your own thanks this week.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.