I saw a friend the other afternoon for coffee and he told me that I looked happy. “Are you happy?” he asked and I waffled because I suspect that if I admit to being happy, the happiness gods will smite me. I’m not sure what I’m thinking exactly, that I will jinx the happiness, that I will be like Greek hero felled by hubris, or just that I will be proven very, very wrong, but it seems wrong to talk about being happy, especially out loud, especially to other people.
The other day I had a fleeting thought, and I didn’t even voice it and it came to haunt me. The thought was, and I’m not at all comfortable repeating it here, but maybe if I use a different font? The thought was, WOW! I haven’t been sick in forever! As a matter of fact, I can’t remember the last time I sneezed! And wouldn’t you know it, later that night I was embracing the toilet tenderly and violently parting company with the contents of my stomach and perhaps every other organ as well. So I know all about what thinking can lead to.
And now Neil was trying to get me to admit to happiness, in direct violation of my Fifth Amendment rights against self-incrimination.
“You are, aren’t you?” he persisted and when I said something like, “I..I am not good at..worried..jinxing..possibly insane…unstable-”
He gasped.
“You’re at an 8, aren’t you?
I knew exactly what he meant. An 8 on the happiness scale of 10. I don’t even know why it goes up to 10, to be honest, what with all the atrocities and Republicans in the world. How could a 10 exist?
But I was at a solid 8, which for me is off the charts.
I am happy. I have a great family, supportive, interesting parents, smart, funny kids, furry cats (potential plot twist: one of the cats appears to be pregnant. Both cats are (a) indoor (b) female (c) spayed, so I’m excited about the upcoming Immaculate Conception: Feline Edition) and I’m in love with the Guy I Went to Ireland With. I know I’m in love with him because the other day I spent some time telling him how much I hate him. That’s what true love looks like, in case you’re wondering.
So, 8. Unless writing this plummets me to a 4. And if that happens, all the atrocities and Republicans will just have to stop to level things out for me.
Anyway, enough about me. What’s your number?
{ 21 comments… read them below or add one }
Twitter: annsrants
February 9, 2015 at 4:45 pm
Whatever it is, it just went up at least .5 with this post. xo
Twitter: jukeboxbarb
February 9, 2015 at 5:05 pm
When I read your informative/snarky/clearly written by a super smart person blog, I go to 10. Then, 8 or 9. Sometimes 7. A 10 would need a pharmaceutical boost.
I’m consistently at a five, but I’m happy at a five, which most days bumps me up to a seven.
I was a 3 but now that I am so jealous a 1.
Twitter: kidsvomitmice
February 9, 2015 at 10:45 pm
I can’t believe you allowed yourself to admit to an 8. You’re doomed. DOOMED.
And is it only Jews that act this way? Larry (my goyische spouse) once allowed someone to announce all our kids’ names at an event and I wanted to kill him. Great – bring attention to the fact that we have 6 healthy children. To me, that’s just asking for it.
Twitter: HipMom
February 10, 2015 at 3:14 am
I’m very happy for your 8!
As for my own number, if fear of jinxing it is any indication, I am hovering around 7.8-8 myself.
Twitter: HipMom
February 10, 2015 at 3:15 am
BTW my Twitter is no longer HipMom – how do I change that?
Twitter: Icarus2013
February 10, 2015 at 10:18 am
Me too. my new handle is @MysteriesOLife
8 is great…anything above it is just plain braggy. xoxo
Twitter: Icarus2013
February 10, 2015 at 10:16 am
okay tell the truth. Is “Guy I Went to Ireland With” holding you hostage and forcing you to type this? If so, publish a post with sarcasm, witty charm and old world snark. If everything is okay, post one of your usual posts.
Definitely a strong 6, maybe even a 6.5. And after a nap? 7.
This makes me so happy, Marinka. I’m cheering for you and your lovely new life. Let’s catch up soon.
XOXO
Anna
Twitter: Mamabirddiaries
February 10, 2015 at 6:06 pm
I love you at whatever number your at but an 8 sounds pretty amazing. I’m at a 7.254 1/4.
I love that you’re an 8. I’m a solid 7 – just slightly lower than you as neither of my fixed cats seem to be pregnant.
I’m glad you’re at 8; 8 is good, because 10 seems like too much pressure and also people start hating you! 😛
Wow so good to read from you again.
“with all the atrocities and Republicans in the world” hahaha very true.
Im currently at about 6 and the cold of NYC makes it 1 point even lower.
An 8 is always great! Less pushy than 9, way less prone to get an eye-roll than 10 and still better than 7.
Please let us know when we can come pray at the Shrine of Immaculate Feline Conception
*!
8!
Say 8!
I’m saying 8 so I feel like an 8.
My therapist taught me it works that way too.
So much love to you, my friend… xo
I’m at a five, because my back is jacked up and money and grahhhh, but it could certainly be worse.
I need to know more about this immaculate cat conception.
Have you given up on blogging? Thanks.
Twitter: grandemocha
April 27, 2015 at 10:45 pm
I’m excited about Immaculate Conception: Feline Edition.
The neighbors were convinced our cat was pregnant. The vet had previously told me it was a boy. I kept thinking that vet is going to owe me big money if that cat is pregnant. It was eating the kitten’s food, which is very high calorie, and GOT FAT. Kitten had to stop eating kitten chow early because the big kitty was so overweight.