Happiness Counts

I fear that I’m falling into one of those traps where my blog posts turn into massive bullet pointed lists (or maybe that’s his influence), but I figure that lists of random bits and pieces are better than dead silence, right?

Since I’ve been feeling down more than I’d like to the past few days, it’s time for a list of the good things going on right now:

  • My NSF letters of recommendation have been turned in, leaving me free from contemplating my fellowship application until the results come back. This is a serious load off my mind.
  • Classes are over. I still have finals hanging over my head, but the part of my life where I have to waste time listening to lectures is over… until January.
  • In the finals category, I got my fluids take-home final this morning. It is due December 11th, and I have already finished one-third of it. This is happiness which cannot be counted on one’s fingers.
  • Who got a bunch of Christmas shopping done at the big Cornell store sale today? Yes, that was definitely me.
  • The rent has been paid for the month, and, because I picked up my paycheck, I’m still coming out ahead.
  • My research group meeting today has convinced me that I am very lucky. Not only am I going to get to start playing in wind tunnels in two weeks, but my advisor actually seems to care about his students having lives outside of doing research. Win!
  • Current plans are to go to the theater to see Casino Royale this evening. I’m not much of a Bond fan, but the last day of classes is a good time for some mindlessness.

Neil Gaiman has a really sweet post involving his daughter Maddy that made me smile. In particular, he writes:

“You forget the things you were certain you would always remember, especially the tiny things, and all too often they’re the things that matter.”

I think that’s what I’m always upset with myself for failing to do when it comes to keeping a journal or a blog. In the end, it’s usually the tiny things that really bring back a memory for me, and those are usually the things that don’t get recorded. I wish I could tell my thirteen-year-old self that.

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