Today, I got mad that I had to walk all the way across the hallway to throw something in the trash.  Yup, sure did.  Last week I told my husband we should get the "big ones" for our kitchen, referring to the curbside garbage and recycling cans.  My laziness astonishes me.

Remember that post about how I ruined my life on accident?  Well, because of all this, you'd think I'd have a little more gratitude...you know, the everyday kind.  You'd think that living in a house (that I own) with a husband (that I like) and driving a car (that I paid for) and taking care of my dogs (responsibly) would be Disneyland.  You'd think that just not drinking myself to death or vomiting in mysterious bathrooms would be Heaven.  But here I am, bitching about how our garbage cans are too small because I'm too lazy to move.

I've learned that "an attitude of gratitude" can be tainted by the same thing that taints pretty much any other amazing thing that transforms your life...acclimation.

Whether it's a new toy, a new city, a new relationship, or a new body, the pink cloud wears off.  Spoiled with the treasures of normalcy, I've accidentally redefined what it means to have a successful life by comparing myself to those who've never wrecked theirs in the first place.  I used to live in squalor, eat laxatives and shit my pants...then I got everything I ever wanted.  But 12 years later, I'm not grateful.  I'm a jerk.

Thank God I have something beyond myself to live for - even if that something is Kindness, or The Process of Change.  Thank God I can choose to muster up some gratitude when the privileges of living in America distract me from the miracles of being alive.  Thank God I can go to a meeting filled with broken people, and freely love them the way I was freely loved into the spoiled woman I am today.  Thank God I can choose Harmony until it chooses me.