You Don’t Need Monumental Reasons to Be Happy.

So, I’ve been a little womp womp all week. I knew it was bad when on two occasions, I sat down to blog and my energy fell so flat that I couldn’t even write.

A co-worker of mine who also did a stint in Texas warned me of what he deemed “reverse homesickness” also known as longing for a place that is not technically home. I started my new gig this week. I proudly wore the new girl sticker as I met lots of people and repeated elongated pronunciations of my phonetically fucked up name. By midweek, I was exhausted and the reverse homesickness had kicked in full throttle. I missed the 80 degree weather that I willingly traded in for a peacoat. I missed my team and wanted to burst in to 1,000 tiny little tears when I IMed my former senior manager with a simple, “Hi! I miss you guys!” I even hung up my Texas ornament in my cubicle, a gift from my former manager. And, during all of my new found nostalgia, I felt like a complete ass. This is what I wanted. Shouldn’t I be jumping up and down and baking cupcakes for all the boys and girls? Womp. Womp.

But, then, something shifted. Maybe it helped that it was Friday. It always helps when it’s Friday. After an unfortunate Thursday night spent trying to track down a washcloth in the hotel, I woke up on Friday and decided being sad was probably a gigantic waste of my time and energy.

Texas was like the best ex-boyfriend you ever had who gave you a forehead kiss, wished you well and wanted the best for you but just knew he wasn’t it. Texas was good to me, too good to me. But, that place was a sliver of my existence and now it’s time to put on my big girl panties and create a new life here.

So, I decided I was going to be happy. Some cool things happened at work and that helped. Then, after work, I finally bought the 5-shelf bookcase I have wanted and needed for an eternity to replace the 3-shelf bookcase that my library outgrew. And, then I decided I was going to indulge in one of my favorite introvert activities and go see a movie solo. And, on the way to that movie, I blasted horrible-but-catchy pop music including Nicki Minaj’s “Starships.” And, after the movie, I finally felt full enough to blog again.These are some of life’s tiniest, and arguably strangest, simple pleasures.

Because, I realized, I don’t need monumental reasons to be happy. No one does. We don’t need amazing jobs on the 50th floor of a NYC building. We don’t need boyfriends who are head over heels in love with us. We don’t need huge news of a promotion or some extravagant beach vacation. We don’t need monumental reasons to be happy. Because if we wait around for monumental reasons, they won’t ever happen. Or, maybe they’ll happen, but we will have been so womp womp during the interim that it will all be for naught. We wrongly assume big, wonderful, full lives are composed of an assortment of huge moments. But, I’d like to think a big life is spent relishing the tiny things. The inconsequential things. The things that aren’t worth a damn to anyone else except for you. 

 All we need are ourselves and the will to be happy.

Yes, I decided it was that simple. Because it is.



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