Gratitude: November 2012

As many days as possible, I list six distinct things for which I’m grateful. The list is archived monthly. Here’s November 2012.

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336/366The gift of a mix CD from someone whose taste in music I find great. Meeting some nice people who I’ll be working with. Orange marigolds. Finding a Day of the Dead altar that made sense for living and remembering, both. Candles. Our friend’s safe arrival.

Andy running out and buying medicine for me first thing in the morning. His paying the rent and finishing the laundry. My colleague returning to town. That we both had time to meet. Argo. A day of decadent eating with friends.

Time to take a walk. Quiet time. That nice woman who pointed out the weird looking plants in a stranger’s garden. Visiting the Steampunk shop with Z. Clockwork Couture and its kitty adoption room. Driving safely.

Eye doctors. Eyes. Light. Glasses. Contact lenses. Tears.

Help from a friend during odd dizzy moments. Getting through a dense work day. Amazing weather. Greek yogurt. The desire to stop eating Greek yogurt (because it’s an animal product). Coffee Bean within walking distance from the job.

Democracy. Time to fill out my absentee ballot. That I don’t live in a swing state. The option to drop off my ballot at the polls in person. President Barack Obama. Another victory.

Making the shipping deadline. The sense to avoid having a large iced coffee. Help in the office. Arriving at the appointment on time. Peace in my home. Rest.

A good meeting. Working with nice people. Getting through another round of new work tasks. Dinner with a colleague. Finding the right cat food. Being able to sleep after an argument.

Reminiscing with a friend about a night I had forgotten. A good laugh. That he could close the window to keep the cold out. The opportunity to be creative during my day job. Putting my experience to use. Vegan “chicken” noodle soup.

A “day off” to catch up on more work. Being paid for my work. Feeling comfortable walking after dark. A spontaneous visit with a good friend. Getting to know her better. A day at home with Andy and our kittehs.

A surprise gift from a new friend. The new friend. My colleagues who had reasons to come see me at the job site. Greek yogurt for lunch again. Feeling useful. Wising up about cutting down on my coffee intake.

A date with Andy. The Broad Stage. Shakespeare. Hamlet. Poetry. Rain.

Brunch with my business friend. Acknowledging our first anniversary. The way talking shop with her never feels like work. Making time to walk two miles. Clocking out at 9pm. Late dinner with Andy.

A warm note from an old colleague. Making time for a walk on a sunny morning. Finding that paste-up on the side of Guido’s. Sitting near the spot where we sat once. Buttery chardonnay. Earning money.

Getting a particular task behind me. Hearing that I’m normal from an expert. That there was an end to the work day — finally. Stopping for lunch. Working again with people I met about 13 years ago. That they were all the nicest of the nice.

Having time to pick up the dry cleaning. Dry cleaning. Becoming acclimated to new situations. The freedom to cut back on my billable hours. Five hours to sleep before I to pack. Thanksgiving. That Mom & Dad are still in love at the 48 year mark. Happy Anniversary, kids.

Chess with our niece & nephew. Seeing Andy’s dad’s art hanging in gorgeous museum-like galleries (again). Having a chance to preview his latest work. Walks in the desert. Gallery hopping. Nice conversations with family.

Two visits with Ed Larson. Santa Fe outings with Andy. Yummy Spanish wine. Marcona almonds. Honey. Learning that the painting is a portrait of a girl named Ruby.

Safe and easy travel. Coming home to find our girls healthy. That no kitties peed on the sofa. Andy’s generous and hard work putting things back in order. Emails from Helen. That Mom & Dad & Aunt Connie & Uncle Mac are with Aunt Ruth.

Aunt Ruth. Her death being peaceful and comfortable. The fact that she was with family in the last days and minutes of her life. My parents. My brother. Being able to attend the funeral. Andy.

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