When I was a senior in high school, I noted one day that my nemesis was carrying a compact little tome called 14,000 Things to Be Happy About, which she conspicuously read between classes.

Because I was at a time in my life when I thought I should be reading stuff like The Dharma Bums and Naked Lunch two books Ive yet to finish because land the plane already, Jack Kerouac, and WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT, WILLIAM BURROUGHS??? I sneered at her simple-minded literary choice.

I did, however, surreptitiously sneak a peek at Barbara Ann Kipfers obsessive opus the next time I was at B. Dalton in Mesa Mall.

What I remember is being underwhelmed by suggestions that I be happy about the purest potato taste imaginable and bean lovers, as well as a reflective turn of mind and a special spirit of enjoyment found in New England. Since that time, Ive had the opportunity to be screamed at by enraged drivers in Boston, so I guess Ms. Kipfer can take that reflective turn of mind and stick it in the yacht supply stations shes so happy about.

But Ill confess, Ive been harking back to those 14,000 things lately because, well, I think many of us can agree that 2020 hasnt exactly been an explosion of Dilly Bars and winning lottery tickets. I believe the term most often used to describe this year is Dumpster fire, to the point that its clich and I spend a lot of time pondering what could replace it. Diaper failure? Check engine light? Robo-spam calls?

While Im not saying cock-eyed optimism is the answer, I dont think an Eeyore-ish wallow in nihilism is, either. Im just flailing around with all the grace of a newborn giraffe on roller skates, trying to figure out a livable balance. So, Im keeping a running mental tally of Stuff I Feel Pretty OK About.

It may not be blissful joy, but neither is it a live reading of The Bell Jar. Its pretty OK, and Im pretty OK with that. In no particular order, then, some Stuff I Feel Pretty OK About:

Learning that Id accrued enough grocery store points to get 20 cents off per gallon of gas. Granted, that means Id spent $200 at the grocery store and $183 of those dollars went toward sour cream and cheddar Baked Ruffles, but still: 20 cents off per gallon!

Eating sour cream and cheddar Baked Ruffles.

Walking barefoot to get the mail, across the concrete front steps and driveway, and the concrete is hot but falls just short of being unbearable. Its pretty OK when my lazy refusal to put on flip flops is rewarded.

Stopping my cats just before they eat something weird off the floor.

Reaffirming that I remember all the world capitals. Its one of my party tricks: I know all 197 world capitals, so probably you should never play Categories with me because I WILL choose world capitals and I WILL get full points on every single one. Anyway, every so often I go to sporcle.com and take the world capitals quiz, just to reaffirm that yep, I know em all.

Getting everything to fit in the dishwasher even though some of it probably wont get clean.

Harmonizing with Johnny Cash on Streets of Laredo (the version from American IV). Why this particular song? Couldnt tell you, but Johnny and I sound pretty OK together.

Checking Instagram for new items tagged #catsareweird or #babyhippo.

Emptying the change out of my wallet and into the gallon glass jar in which I save it, and saying the word plink as I drop coins individually through the narrow neck.

Informing my morning glory tower that its creepy. I planted morning glories in a big pot and built a tower out of chicken wire for them to climb, which they have and now theyre twisting and knotting all over each other at the top. I tell them its creepy, but secretly I think its neat.

Sitting in my adult-size beanbag chair and calling it exactly that: adult-size beanbag chair.

Lying in bed and making arbitrary mental lists as I drift to sleep: The 10 best things Ive ever eaten. My top five Bob Dylan albums. Seven literary characters I wish were real and I could be friends with them.

Reminding myself that for now, pretty OK is actually pretty darn good.

n

Rachel Sauer is at rs81501@gmail.com and would love to hear what you feel pretty OK about.

Continued here:

Finding livable balance: It's 2020 and I'm pretty OK - The Grand Junction Daily Sentinel