Today, having returned to my new home after a grueling four hours at work -- I'm not kidding, it was terrible; I have a terrible cold -- I am tremendously grateful for the simple pleasure of having a home to come home to.
As soon as I finish this post, I'm going to hop into my shower, put on my pajamas and robe, and get into my bed to read (and, hopefully, sleep). There are, I realize, millions (?) of people who don't have anywhere comfortable to be sick. Now, this isn't a tremendous illness I'm dealing with -- I wouldn't be blogging if it was, for goodness' sake -- but to have to deal with it on a cold day like today, or (worse still) to have to spend a cold, achy night laying on the sidewalk... well, that'd be dreadful.
The best part about noticing what I have (a wonderful home) rather than what I don't have (my health) is that it makes my illness more bearable. This is a life secret I'm only just now, at 39, figuring out -- but it makes me unbelievably happy.
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