An attitude of gratitude
G called and wanted me to meet her at La Vita – Y was going to be there. I took a long hot shower and dressed the wounds on my feet and decided not to go anywhere. My mom was MIA, and my feet were hurting, and Arlene had run outside to puke and well, I just needed to be home. I heated up a can of Amy’s lentil soup and sat at my table and stared out the window at the bayou. The late afternoon walkers and joggers were out in spades – the weather right now is sooooooo very nice – and I just felt so grateful for every last drop of my life.
My sister called and began speaking that weird affected way she does with her RSDS and her flair for drama and I told her I couldn’t understand her. She said it was because her lip doesn’t move and she has some missing teeth from the trauma. I thought well that doesn’t explain why you are not using verbs – she was saying stuff like “describe house” – “lip no move” – and it was bugging me. I told her I thought she should see a speech therapist and she got mad and hung up the phone.
But I digress – I am particularly grateful for my health – having spent the last two weeks incapacitated because of my feet I understand the blessing of health. I’m grateful for my house – having spent the last sixteen years with an architect and having been hurt by another – it’s nice to know that architecture has and will continue to have such a prominent place in my life. I’m grateful for my mother, who even though she’s eccentric, well because she’s eccentric. And I’m grateful for my friends – the new ones who pass and wave, the old ones who take care of me and the Bean, and everyone in between. I’m grateful for my job that let’s me do work that I feel passionate about and let’s me do it from my home (the LaLa and New Orleans).
Like Tony Montana said – I want the world, Carlo, and everything in it.
Great balls of fire – I’m thankful for my world.