I have been in a bad mood. For weeks. Perhaps that’s the definition of depression or perhaps I’m just naturally cranky. Either way, I’ve been feeling unhappy for weeks. I had a chance to be with my sisters and I loved it. Then they had to go home. I had a chance to be with my son and his family and I loved it. Then we had to go home. I miss my family. I’m not happy to be so far from the people I love.

That’s probably the reason I’ve been in a bad mood for weeks. I was happy while my sisters were here and I was happy when we were with the kids. Then I went back to cranky. I can list a million things that are wrong in my little world. And I have been. All the myriad and multiple problems have become my overriding self-talk. This is wrong and that is wrong and everything is wrong.

But it isn’t. I have two sisters and we love each other and are, for eleven and a half months a year, just a phone call away. I have two sons and four grandchildren and we love each other. They aren’t close geographically, but in this technological era, why does that even matter?

I’ve been married to my starter husband for 42 years. He has put up with all my shit for that long and miraculously, for some very odd reason, still loves me. It’s inexplicable. I’m not easy to live with. But he soldiers on.

We aren’t the Gates or Warren Buffet, but we have enough money so that we can indulge many of our wants and not have to worry about eating cat food. Because Dick stayed at a single company for most of his working life, and because it was long enough ago that these things happened, he has a great pension. I have a little pension. We have been frugal, maybe even cheap, for most of our lives and that means we can afford our early retirements.

My home is comfortable. Our lives are secure here. We have enough space to stay out of each other’s way when we want privacy and we have a place to come together when we don’t. It’s nice here, although in the summer it is hot and muggy – at least we don’t have to shovel it.

I’m healthy. Most people my age are on some type of medication for some chronic problem. I’m on room air. That’s it. I can and do work out three times a week. I’m better than when I started and I do believe it is contributing to my overall healthy status.

There are many things in my life that make it wonderful. I have been choosing to look at all the things that are wrong.

My family is far away. And after 42 years, there aren’t many mysteries left. We aren’t gobsmacking rich and so can’t indulge every whim. The house isn’t perfect. I’m the crappiest person at my entire gym. I can create a much longer list.

I have been spending too much time looking at that paragraph above instead of all the other things I wrote. I have been choosing to examine every single minute thing that is wrong with my life. I have been making myself unhappy.

I think I need to choose better. I think it is time to remember how good my life is. It isn’t perfect because no one has a perfect life. But it is much better than I have any right to expect. Life is hard and then you die. But my life isn’t really all that hard. And I’m not dying any time soon. I should make the time I have left be happy. And I can choose that. So, I think I will.