April 29th, 2015


Counting blessings

The taxes make me want to scream, and cry.


I have a house. It is entirely mine and my husband's. It is solid. It is largely waterproof. And I'm pleased that I don't have to test this the hard way, since we're not that close to anything which could flood us.

We do not have soldiers patrolling outside.

I don't need to worry about bombs.

We are not under or on a hillside which could decide to be down at the bottom all of a sudden.

I have clean water -- as much as I need -- at the touch of a tap.

I can go to the store and buy as much food as I need or want.

I have family who I love, who love me -- and they're safe too.

I think that all my friends are safe.

I can afford to take a week off work to deal with problems.

I have a monthly budget with which to buy books -- any books I want.

If I were injured or ill, I could simply go to the hospital, and I have a reasonable confidence that they have the resources to cope with whatever it is to the highest standard that medical science currently gives us.

So I am part of a privileged elite. My life is already better than probably 96-98% of humanity. I am not poor. I'm not in that absolutely absurd top 1% and I never will be, but for all my stress and grousing, I look at what I have and know that actually, I'm pretty well off.

It pays never to lose sight of the important things.