I know what I’m supposed to say: I’m thankful that this miracle of life is growing inside of me and that Charlie and are going to be a “family” instead of “just a couple” (that’s what it says in some of the booklets the doctor’s office has given me), blah, blah, blah. But that sort of makes me want to barf more than usual.
But I am thankful for the things I take for granted every day: having a roof over my head, food on the table, heat in the house, and clothes on my back. We don’t have to worry about our house being foreclosed on because we rent and the landlord doesn’t have a mortgage on it. We don’t have to worry about losing our jobs because when times get tough, people drink more, so at least Charlie has job security. And if anyone at the coffeeshop is going to be fired, there are at least five people hired after me who would go first. So I have some kind of job security. Of course, our thanks are at someone else’s misfortune or difficulty coping. So that’s kind of depressing.
I am thankful for all of my friends – what I consider to be our family – and the individual kinds of support they each give. In no particular order, I want to thank all of them: Jay and Scott, from now on to be referred to as Auntie Jay and Uncle Scott, Cavan, Liz, Annie, Annette, Katie, the other Katie, Melody, Jennifer, Heather, Maureen, Sarah, Leticia, Audrey, my Aunt Vicki, Kit and Shae, Karla, Molly. There are other people who come to mind who, though I don’t see them all the much, are still in my thoughts and who have been a part of my life for a long time: Jason and Greg, the two Julies, Nancee, Shannon, Tim, and Jim.
And I guess that’s what I have to say about that.