Negative Nelly

Why am I such a worry-wart? The sane, non-worrying part of my mind knows things will be okay. The part of my mind that wallows in worry is more than half convinced that it's the worrying that makes things come out alright. Why is that? I don't like worrying. I know it's non-productive. But I do it anyway, to the point that the daytime worries weasel their way into my dreams. And yes, my dreams are often funny when I relate them in the morning, but they don't feel funny when I'm dreaming them.

On the subject of dreams, a note to the BBE: wattage detectors. That's all I'm saying about that.

It's chilly this morning and I'm honestly glad winter decided to make a bit of an appearance. A couple nights ago, it was close to 60 around 7:30. It was dark, the moon and stars were out. I was lying on my back in the BBE's yard, looking at the sky and enjoying a lovely cigarette (I don't enjoy them very much anymore, they've become a chore to me). Anyway! I was thinking that it's a blessing and a gift we're given to have 60 degree weather in the dead of winter. But still: I want cold! Sweaters and hats and snuggles under quilts. Hot cocoa and mittens and cold toes to press into his legs in bed. I'm worrying (obsessive, right?) about the daffodils. Will they pop up too early then get smited by the winter that, per Punxsutawny Phil, still has six weeks to live?

Enough of that! How about thinking about the things that are making me happy today instead?

• my Uggs
• watching him move (he is the most graceful man I've ever met)
• clean bathrooms
• Stephen Hawking photobombs (from here)
• Stars on a clear winter night
• Laughing at myself
• This song: