(no subject)
Nov. 27th, 2003 02:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pantryslutWell, hell, it's two and a half hours into Thanksgiving, I'm downloading spam for work, I think it's time for another LJ post.
Things I am thankful for:
My sweetie, my apartment, and my cats.
Morning glories on the back fence.
The lake, within a block, and its year-round Christmas lights.
Friends new and old. Lovers too. You know who you are.
My parents and siblings, all of whom have turned out pretty cool.
New shoes.
Bookshelves and a bathtub.
The Net and its amazing ability to connect with people and keep them connected.
Getting paid to sit at home and write.
Thermostats.
Broadband.
My health and abilities, and many more things that I am unable to put into words, especially without going all weird and/or mystical (yeast. The chemical properties of water. The color spectrum. the scars on my hands. the taste of violets. Chlorophyll. France. My tongue, my nose, my fragile feet, etc). But trust me, I am thankful for them all, even at three in the morning, maybe especially at three in the morning. I am thankful of each breath I draw. Not to any particular being or concept, but just for the feel of the pull in my lungs, the knowledge that it's a finite thing.
Things I am thankful for:
My sweetie, my apartment, and my cats.
Morning glories on the back fence.
The lake, within a block, and its year-round Christmas lights.
Friends new and old. Lovers too. You know who you are.
My parents and siblings, all of whom have turned out pretty cool.
New shoes.
Bookshelves and a bathtub.
The Net and its amazing ability to connect with people and keep them connected.
Getting paid to sit at home and write.
Thermostats.
Broadband.
My health and abilities, and many more things that I am unable to put into words, especially without going all weird and/or mystical (yeast. The chemical properties of water. The color spectrum. the scars on my hands. the taste of violets. Chlorophyll. France. My tongue, my nose, my fragile feet, etc). But trust me, I am thankful for them all, even at three in the morning, maybe especially at three in the morning. I am thankful of each breath I draw. Not to any particular being or concept, but just for the feel of the pull in my lungs, the knowledge that it's a finite thing.
