Allegations have been made that I am a miserable person. Apparently, reading my thoughts gives people the impression that I'm depressed. Sad. Never happy. Etc. This is not true. This is false. I am happy a good 40% of my life.

Things That Delight Me On a Regular Basis

Going through a car-wash.

Breakfast cereal.

Wearing the same clothes for several days.

Cocoa Puffs as late night dessert.

When I exchange lanes with another car on the freeway, swapping simultaneously, like car ballet.

The way my turn signal light and the one on the car in front of me sync up perfectly for a few precious seconds before gradually drifting apart.

When two Sea Gulls squawk simultaneously, at different pitches, making a perfect harmony.

Asian girls' hair.

My piano, Beatrix.

The feeling of my surreal semi-conscious morning state being charged with energy from a Starbucks Doubleshot can.

Watching someone run desperately down a crowded city sidewalk to catch a bus.

A sneeze that builds and builds and explodes orgasmically.

Dropping unwanted items out my apartment window, then watching people snatch them up like goldfish gobbling cracker bits.

My sawed, mutilated, spray-painted, glued, rubber-banded, duct-taped guitar.

Good, thick-cut bacon.

When it's sunny out and it rains anyway, like the sunlight was so thick that it condensated into bright gold drops.

A really quality bowel movement.

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According to the info sheet for the new visitation case I'm starting, here's what I have to look forward to at work tomorrow:

Mother is mentally ill, easily agitated, and not medicated.
May be under the influence.
Erratic and agitated behavior.
Irrational thinking and paranoia.
Drug induced behavior.

At first I was kind of nervous about starting this case, but then I realized...this pretty much describes the majority of my friends.

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