Me, the update

I'm eating my mom's apple crisp for lunch and I'm happy. I just announced on Facebook that I'm learning to calm the f down. My week-long migraine has subsided and my shoulders are as far away from my ears as they've been in weeks.

But, according to Facebook's US-happiness-index, it's likely that I'm not as happy as I was last Christmas. Unless of course, Canadians are as happy as Americans around Thanksgiving. I would say, actually, that this past weekend and couple of days have seen me as content as I can be, given a house of mass-chaos and a behind-schedule project.

But lets back up.



A few weeks ago, I was here, taking this picture of my boyfriend at Bruce Peninsula National Park near Tobermory. Nice day. Nice weather. Nice place. Nice boyfriend.

Not happy. Why? I was wrapped up in things. Something in my head wouldn't let go. We went for gorgeous walks on beautiful ridges and rocks. Sure, it rained a little, but it was basically seamless. I even ate some super yummy pie. And yet there was still something not quite right. I was irritable. I had a migraine (that lasted for a week). I was not able to remember things or focus or be nice or have patience.

And then it was a short week of work on a project that was behind schedule, leading to an important meeting. I was pressuring myself to have all the answers, to take on all the tough challenges, to get everything done, to make everyone happy. Which of course is not humanly possible. But I wanted to be super human.

And then my sister was visiting and the boyfriend moved in and I was organizing and running my mom's birthday celebrations and there were so many moving parts and I was trying to put my arms around it all. At the celebrations on the weekend, I had a very quick chat with my uncle and he said something that just made me stop. It was so benign, I'm sure he doesn't even remember saying it, "You just have to remember that nothing really matters that much."

And I started noticing that a number of items have found their way to me recently, reminding me that stress is bad for me: for my health, for my brain, for my relationships. And I realized that life doesn't become less stressful, I just have to deal with it better. I have to stop hating all the things that "get in my way" or "make life difficult". I have to accept. And not care. And remember that I can only do what a normal human being can do. And pretend sometimes that I'm having fun and in a good mood so that I can trick myself into actually BEING in a good mood. Because it's more fun than being irritable.

And so, I have a cute, wonderful boyfriend living in my house, with a Queen-sized bed in our future. And a good friend also living in my house (for a short time). My house is full of friendly warm faces. And I have an awesome family. And a good job that has challenges to keep me learning and sharp. And a creative outlet in an old, charming house, in which things are really coming together.

Suddenly, I've raised my happiness index.