Stark Raving Sober

Sitting here in front of my computer, feeling grateful as all hell that I am me. In a place of relative contentment with my life, troubles and all. I like that little saying :

“Life isn’t about learning to avoid the storm, it’s about learning to dance in the rain” (or something like that).  Accepting life on life’s terms, accepting that sometimes people are ridiculous, accepting that every day is exactly what I choose to make it.  Last night someone reminded himself (and me) of Rule 62-Don’t take yourself so damned seriously!”   The world would be a much better place, it seems to me, if we’d all get our little fat assters off the pedestals we’ve built in our minds.

I got my grass all mowed yesterday because it was supposed to storm today. Hasn’t rained but a few driplets so far. I was really hoping that walking around behinds the mower would be physical therapy for me. LOL  Instead, well-you can guess. But–my gratitude list this morning includes “I’ve got a pulse” And “My body, though mangled, still works, mostly.” LMAO…

The kittens are all outside. In and out. I turned off the air conditioning so that I could leave the door open for them to traipse in and out to their hearts content. They have been driving me insane. I’ve been keeping them in because of Fred the Dog, but he is getting much better with the adult cats, so…I decided to trust him a little more with the kittens.The little ones are suffering from Cabin Fever and having been running and jumping and climbing and knocking things off into the floor…so–out they go!  So far-So good. And there is relative quiet in my sanctuary once again. Here’s an adorable picture I took Tuesday.

The Posse, sacked out on the kitchen island on top of a bag… Aren’t they the sweetest things???

Took my DIL to the airport in St. Louis this morning, then dropped darling grandson off at a friends to spend the night.  I am keeping her 2008 Jeep Compass while she’s gone, and will pick her up again on Monday afternoon. She’s gone to Ohio and West Virginia. Sonny boy called me from work on his lunch hour, saying he’s working like a dog, and will come by this weekend and give me some money for gas. We chatted a bit and I told him come for supper one night, and he may…and he may not. He’s working a lot of OT and has people calling him for side jobs. He said he’s turned down  3 people already–he’s too tired and stretched too thin. He’s a very hard working man, and I couldn’t be prouder of him. I still put him in God’s hands every morning in my meditations and prayer…just like I had to do with him back when I was first getting sober and he was on the streets living a crazy, dangerous life.

Meeting a sponsling this afternoon for some supper and stepwork in the park, assuming we don’t get rained out. Then we’ll go on out to the womens meeting at 7.  I need to fix up some supper to take and something to leave for that man as well. I feel like a nap honestly, but don’t quite see how I can fit one in today.

High class problems, eh?

Namaste.