While the mobs are out shopping today, and probably have been doing so since 12:01 am, I am safely ensconced far, far away from the crazy dudes and dudettes who just want that one more bargain.
Seriously, I’m using the name Black Friday to refer to the color of the words on my computer screen as I type. This being November, I’m involved in an insane writing quest. Writing a chapter a day for the month.
So far, I’m more than 80,000 words into the book and have almost kept up with my goal.
Thanksgiving is a time for all of us to set aside a little bit of time and go over our lives. Not necessarily with a fine-toothed comb, but just in general.
I like to find things that might be a bit out of the ordinary, things that remind me that the world is a pretty odd place, full of wonders and mysteries and just how much I love it like that. Hey, I’m thankful for the world being like that.
I’m thankful for language, so I can tell that jerk in the car next to me he got his driver’s license from a box of cereal.
I’m thankful for the accelerator so I can get away from that dude in the car next to me.
I’m thankful for video game systems, which give my young dudes something to do when I’m desperate for just five minutes alone.
I’m thankful for the hammer I’m going to use on that gaming system the next time they start fighting over it.
I’m thankful for my health. Considering I’m starting my eighth year after a heart attack (I had one when I was 39), I’m pretty much into bonus time here. As long as I’m not passing out from blood loss and breaking my nose by crashing into and taking out half-moon-shaped holes of the bathroom countertop, I’m good.
I’m thankful for you dudes out there who actually read this stuff. I hope you got something out of it the past almost four years. Even if it was only a couple of minutes wasted without being bored.
I’m thankful that I had my mom, even if it was for a lot fewer years than I wanted.
Most of all, right now I’m thankful that when I stop typing, I can go downstairs and be surrounded by love and joy and family and a slobbery, barking dog. And that they know me well enough to allow me these few minutes alone and love me enough to give them to me.