today when i was walking around the house a thought popped into my head: i’m happy. and it surprised me. not that i have too many things to be unhappy about or anything. life could be far worse than it is for me at the moment. it has been far worse in the past. but today, coming home from a three year old’s birthday party, putting the kettle on to make cups of tea, then taking the washing out of the machine to hang up on the maiden, i realised i was happy.
the feeling has been with me for a few days now. i don’t know if it’s because a few of my problems have sorted themselves out, or if they seem less significant because i’ve stopped worrying about everything so much these last few months. but i feel lighter at the moment. i’m not as worried about money as i always have been. work isn’t getting me down as much as it usually does. and i’m feeling optimistic about the future. i’ve been writing more, i’ve been getting time to read, and i’ve been planning what i’m going make when i get around to making it. i’m feeling optimistic, and calm, and not like my usual self at all.
the last time i was this happy, i was pregnant.