Solo tripping...

There are a lot of wonderful things about living alone. Like, I always know where the scissors are. Of course, if I can't find them, there isn't anyone else to blame, either. And if I decide to have a waffle topped with strawberries and whipped cream, lots of whipped cream, there is no one to shake their head and roll their eyes when I also decide to have mocha almond fudge ice cream for dessert. But the best thing, the very most-wonderful thing, is that I get to practice being happy. It is a fallacy to believe that I will ever be happy in a relationship if I can't be happy by myself, right now. Happiness is strictly an inside job, a decision I make on a moment-to-moment basis. I get to work on that every day now, from the moment I wake with Boo's nose on my cheek to our parting moments when I turn out the light and skootch him over to the other side of the bed. Mornings are busy, four days a week, when I am packing up the red book bag and heading off to school. Afternoons are currently full of reading and outlining and studying, with small breaks often, to refresh the neural networks, let them cool down a little. Evenings that I am not out at a meeting are often television banquets; House on Tuesday nights, Monk on Fridays, Desperate Housewives on Sunday. Really, how very trite this all sounds. But, I am abysmally happy most of the time, really. Walks in the neighborhood, a trip to the gym, an afternoon at the movies with friends, it is really very easy to be happy. Chopping up veggies for a stir-fry, washing the car, folding laundry, stretching out in a bubble bath, all are moments of bliss. And then there is that moment in the afternoon, when I am spread out all over the bed with the laptop, school books, notes everywhere, and the rainbow maker stirs into action, and my room is ablaze with tiny rainbows dancing all around me. Grace.