Glad about? Thankful sounds odd to me. Maybe I’m over-defining stuff.

So I’m whatever the emotion is called about:

Daughter. Nobody ever told me what having a grown-up Daughter would be like.

Coming home and looking out into the bay. Pale silvery-brown and a murky blue-green today.

My ex-husband getting help. It’s been nice, to be able to talk to the person I used to know. Plus, it makes me feel less stupid – I didn’t marry a complete jerk.

My happy light, which helps make me capable of being glad.

The world, turning. Watching the clouds, and thinking about how we live under – not water, but not something as formless? gormless? as air.

And remembering how to cook, in fits and starts. That’s one of those things that tells me I’m not so depressed any more. Now, if I ever get my act together and get the house clean, I’ll either be a Stepford wife or healed.

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