Some times I hear people talk about counting their blessings because it makes their life more livable. But then I think, if you have to count the things you’re blessed with, you’re not that blessed at all, are you? It’s like when you know you have pennies stuck at the bottom of your purse. Underneath all the crap, the six different lipsticks if you are me, the sadly, one lip liner, receipts and tampons and pens and the one broken earring. You gotta sift through all of it just to get to the change.
It’s so pretty, here in San Diego. It gets so hot outside, like today, to the point where we are literally all like “I’m dyin’ guys!” and then just like that, the fever breaks, and the rain comes. And even when it doesn’t, we have a few hot ones and then bam–fall is here. All of our bitchin’ is done away with. And then were too cold.
In Arizona it wasn’t like that. I don’t talk about that life very often. I guess Arizona for me was like the Overlook Hotel for Danny. In AZ we’d have months and months of heat and it never let up. It kind of became this thing that everyone who lived there just dealt with. Actually, it never really became anything. It couldn’t have become something if it had always been something. There was no let up from the heat.
So I guess you could say, I’m grateful.