Could Be Content

It's tough to write when there's nothing doing in your brain. I'm not hosting any active resentments; those always prompt a torrent of words. Still working at Daisy Quean. Still married to MySpouse. So no excitement to do with job-hunting or spouse-hunting. Health is good, mental health in moderately good shape.

So I must be experiencing contentment.

I've heard that half of being grateful for what you've got is acknowledging what you've got. Perhaps part of gratitude at our age should be for what we don't have...children living at home, a load of laundry forgotten in the washer for three days, concern for other folks' opinions, a rodent's whisker for what people think of us. (Oops, rodent's whiskers will be in the next decade of our lives.) I'm thinking that gratitude leads to contentment, correct me if I'm wrong.

Anyway, I'm enjoying the lack of excitement, drama, negative emotions, and uncertainty.
The only cloud on my horizon is that I'm out of reading material; I'm reading something that I've read before. Monday that little cloud will be gone: I'll return books to the library and get different ones. And pay my overdue fines.

Yes, I could be content.