squeequeg | Things that are good

Lately I've been complaining a lot. This is not good for me or for the people around me. And while some part of me protests that many of the complaints are justified, that still doesn't mean I should keep on bitching.

So in an attempt to counteract my bitchiness of late, here's a list of things that are good in my life.

I have a family who loves me and who are fun to be around. Not only that, they're interesting too, and sometimes they make sense.
I will be seeing said family soon. There, my mother will feed me tasty, tasty food.
I'm often in contact with my sisters, both of whom are really cool people.
I am in generally good health. More specifically, I have the use of all my limbs and unimpaired brain functions. This is important.
I've written a novel. Hell, I've written two novels -- the first one had interesting ideas at heart, but was slower than frozen snails in several parts and laboriously written in many others. (And you know, if you count the poorly-strung-together scenes that fill up about a hundred pages on my hard drive, I've written two and a half.) That's a great accomplishment on its own -- let the rewrite worries wait for another post.
I will be published in a month or two. It's no longer just a dream.
I have ten short stories out at different markets. That's damn good.
I'm living in a country that, for all the chimps at the helm, still has a number of freedoms that are important to me. And I know that the voices of dissent are strong and willing to put up a hell of a fight.
No one is shooting at me. This is also important.
Aside from a manageable student loan, I am not heavily in debt.
I've gotten enough nibbles on my job search to tell me that I will be able to find a new job. It may take six more months, but I can do it.
I have a boyfriend who sings. And who rubs my shoulders. And who likes it when I go geeky. And who is wonderful.
I have a lot of my Christmas shopping done. Not all, of course.
I've gotten a few Christmas presents for people that, if I've judged right, should get that "Oh my God! Wow!" look on people's faces.
I am not about to be put on trial for necromancy by a bunch of angry minotaurs. Not only that, I'm not naked. (Yes, this is a good thing.)
I have a roof over my head, food in the fridge, and health insurance.
Whenever I want to, I can be a little teapot.

It comes to me that this is a little like