It’s time for another of MomGoth’s Little Sparks of Happiness. I tend toward depression … mild, chronic, constant anxiety and despair is the default (can one have MILD despair…? sort of “what the hell, what else can you expect” style of thing), but I am fortunate in that I can rise above it by paying attention to the little things that make me happy. They are often odd things–that, I cannot help. This is one that never fails, and here is a picture of some. It is neither phlegm nor snot, but a precious little pile of foamy soap. Why foamy soap touches my “the world is, essentially, all right and a good a place to be” button, I do not know, but it does. My mother knows this, and, if she uses a public facility before I do (a good trick, in and of itself), she’ll come out smiling and say, “Foamy soap!” if I’m in luck, come out shaking her head and say, “Slimy soap” if I’m not. So here is:
MomGoth’s Happy Little Song About Foamy Soap
Whenever I feel that the world is too sad,
Unpleasant and lacking in hope
I check out the bathroom and often I’m glad
To find that they have foamy soap.
A handful of bubbles that’s better than dope!
Whenever I struggle to keep myself calm
To push down the panic and cope,
I go to the kitchen and fill up my palm
With anti-anxiety soap.
It ought to be sainted–please write to the Pope.
Okay, that’s enough of that. So anyway, I went to the doctor today for a follow-up check on my wrist and leg and have to take anti-biotics for the scrapes where I fell on the dog food and, in spite of all the first aid, the scrapes are getting infected. Ick. She hasn’t gotten the x-ray readings yet, but will get them before the end of the day. She’s looking at my vitals that the assistants took, and she says, “Blood pressure is good… Weight is good….” I’m like–“Yeah, if I were a Sumo wrestler.” I checked the height/weight chart when I got home and I’m definitely well into the “overweight” range. Life, eh? Life.
Writing prompt: Who would your main character like to see sainted?