I'm not that miserable

So now everyone's thinking I'm a miserable old baggage because I could only come up with three unimportant things that make me happy. Well, not exactly. First, I was hung up on the role of "unimportant" in the phrase. (See previous post). Anything that makes me happy is, ergo, very important. Second, as a former training design specialist (or whatever the hell my title was), I know all about bite-size chunks. Some bloggers can write seriously long posts and keep everyone's attention, but they are the exception rather than the rule. Usually, when a post goes over two or three paragraphs, readers' eyes start glazing over and before you know it, they're on to the next blog on their list.

Anyway, here's the second installment to the tag. Unimportant things that make me happy:

- being in the house by myself. With no one else around. Completely alone. Get the picture? I have a five year old who only attends half day school, as is often the case over here. I have to fly around in the morning, seeing the chiropractor, buying food etc. so I'm rarely in the house when it's empty, if you see what I mean. My teenagers have keys and we live two blocks from school, so they pop in and out at unexpected times. Sometimes I have people in fixing things, and I confess to having a "girl" who comes in and cooks a whole batch of meals for me every few weeks. My house is rarely empty. Not that I have the energy, but I could never have a fling with the window cleaner since I could never be sure of a "window of opportunity" if you'll pardon the pun. So it's a rare treat for me to be in the house (like now) with only the faint sound of police sirens to disturb me.

- an empty dishwasher. I know this sounds irrational but emptying the dishwasher is the bane of my life. I sometimes think I'd rather wash them all by hand than bend (back problems) and stretch the way you have to. I wonder if anyone has ever thought of a counter level dishwasher? We recently instigated new "chores" in the house, so the teenagers take it in turns to empty the dishwasher. Wouldn't you think this would solve the problem? Although it means I no longer do it, I can't find a bloody thing! I mean we've only lived in this house for six years. I don't expect everyone to know where every little thing goes, but breakfast dishes? And cutlery/silverware? And don't get me started about the Tupperware cupboard. Tupperware designers the world over would despair if they could see the way their beautifully designed-to-fit-into-each-other bowls are literally flung in there.

- ten nails of approximately the same length, which I had up until about three minutes ago. I'm not really a high maintenance girl. I rarely have manicures and remember to visit the hair dresser only when I absolutely cannot get my hair to go into a "style", but I insist on nails being the same length. I don't care whether they're really long or quite short, but at the moment, I have nine long-ish nails and one that has ripped off so far down that I may be looking at a blood transfusion. I reached to open a drawer, missed (?) and bashed the tip of my nail so hard that it literally shattered. I'm off to find a nail file. I may be a while as I have to file the others down to match. Grrr!

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