I'm happy...so what's wrong with me?

I don't know. There must be something wrong with me because I can't wipe this grin off my face.

Despite the news, despite the daily feed of downers, I just can't seem to stop shaking this optimistic feeling I have. And maybe it's because I've seen some tough times. I blogged about it the other day. And when you've experienced some of the stuff that I've been through, you learn to take each day one at a time. You take what the day gives you, and if it gives you a smile, you learn to humbly accept it and be grateful, knowing that tomorrow may not be so.

Today it was reported that 524,000 jobs were lost in December. And I was one of them. The U.S. unemployment rate is now at 7.2%, the highest it's been since January, 1993, the first time I was laid off. Just this week I learned of two other friends who were laid off, and another buddy who's been out of work for a few months said in an email that things were getting "rustic." Jobs are scarce.

But not only could things be worse, there is a lot of good things going on. Not that you stick your head in the sand and just notice the good and ignore the bad. I think what you do is just deal with life as it comes, good and bad, and when the bad comes don't let it overshadow the other parts of life.

And realize that things could be worse. Like I wanted to tell the exec who laid me off a month ago. He had such a long face, I wanted to ask him: Are you going to take my kids away? Are you going to tell me I have cancer?

Here's a little something about Sue: She's blind in one eye and has glaucoma in the other. Most likely someday she'll be blind. But she gets up every day smiling. I mean really smiling. In the years I've known her now, I don't think I've ever seen her get up grumpy.

Today on Facebook one of my FB Friends' status line is that he's grateful for 11 years of sobriety. That's something to smile about.

Yesterday I spoke with my daughter in Spain on Skype. How cool is that? But more to the point, like I blogged about the other day, she and I have gone through some tough times together, and that I still have her in my life is something to celebrate every day.

Not to mention my other lovely daughter, Kathryn, who has always been my little buddy, even though she's almost as tall as me.

I'm not a blithering idiot. I still wake up in the middle of the night, worrying, or maybe the better word is, wondering. Just like the other night. And Sue was awake, too; her back was keeping her awake. And we laid there in the dark, talking, sometimes laughing, sometimes just being there together. And Bob, good old Bob, The Wonder Aussie, was snoring contentedly on the old sleeping bag he uses for a bed, and Sue said, Listen to him. Not a care in the world. And we laughed.