Every once in a while, especially after I’ve had a bad day, I like to make a list of things I delight in just to remind myself that life’s worth living. Because it’s the details, those quotidian occurrences that often seem fleeting, that combine to create a meaningful life.
Things I delight in:
Finding a typo in The New York Times.
Getting seated in a restaurant within eavesdropping distance from a couple on their first date. If they’re on a blind date it’s even better.
Opening containers of vacuum-sealed peanuts.
Espying a well-dressed woman, wearing eight-inch Manolo Blahniks, trip over a crack in the sidewalk.
Reading a horoscope that actually applies to my life.
Finding jeans that don’t need to be hemmed.
Accidentally receiving a postcard that was meant for my neighbor. Even better, when it’s from the randy Belgian he met on his last trip to Europe.
Spicy tuna rolls.
Sinking the eight ball.
Coming home to an answering machine full of messages from friends.
Balancing out life’s yin and yang, here are some of things that I don’t delight in:
Finding a typo in my own writing.
Knowing that the table next to me is in eavesdropping distance of my conversation. If I’m on a blind date it’s even worse.
When my roommate gets to the peanuts before I do.
Strutting down the street in a pair of new shoes, feeling hotter than Georgia asphalt (to borrow the classic line from Wild at Heart), and then tripping over a crack in the sidewalk.
Mealy apples.
Running into a perky acquaintance from high school, who I haven’t seen in years, when I’m on the way home from the gym.
Discovering that a pair of new jeans, which looked great at the store, actually make my butt look huge. Damn those skinny mirrors.
Sanguine salesclerks.
Scratching on the eight ball.
Coming home to an answering machine full of messages from my mom. – JoAnne Steglitz