In a fit of giddiness Saturday morning, I asked Chooch to take a picture of me in the shirt I bought at the G-Dragon concert last week, because I love it so much.
He took several, but I liked this one the best because I’m looking over at Henry who was in the middle of saying (lovingly) that I’m so dumb and we were all laughing about how it must feel for Chooch to have a sixteen-year-old as a mom…but when I saw this picture, I realized it’s a perfectly accurate depiction of me lately: just, happy. Laughing. Feeling excited about little things.
Are things perfect? Am I suddenly stress-free? Fuck no. But everything in the nucleus is stable and that’s all I can ask for.
This weekend was full of good things and I smiled a lot. Until we watched Game of Thrones and I got upset that (NOT REALLY A SPOILER BECAUSE GAME OF THRONES) horses died.
“I just feel so bad for the horses, though,” I cried.
“I mean, you know it’s not real though, right?” Henry asked hesitantly, because one cannot ever be too sure with me.
“I know, but….still.”
Ugh Sunday nights are depressing in a myriad of ways. I should have bought more than one G-Dragon shirt for extra smiling power.