[Conversations] The LAATFIDG Jar
Many of our friends have a jar -- a Happiness jar, a Good Things jar. Whatever you call it, it's a jar where every time something good happens to you, you write it down and put it in the jar and collect all the good memories throughout the year. I think that's a great idea, because there's always something small and insignificant that happens and it means the world to someone, and those are easy to forget.
I don't have a Happiness or Good Things jar. I decided a long time ago to live every day doing things that make me happy -- and since it makes me happy to make other people happy, I also try to do those things. I'm not always very good at it. I have good days; I have bad days.
But my point is, I'd go nuts filling that Happiness jar. I'd end up with jarS. Even the Spouse acknowledges that I wouldn't do well with a Happiness Jar, because I'd stop adding things once it was full, and I'm pretty sure I could make it full within a single month. Because, things make me happy, okay? They don't have to be big. I mean, letting the pup up on the couch so that he can snuggle with me? That makes me happy. The sour look I get from the Spouse when he spots the dog on the couch, curled up next to me? That makes me happy, mostly because he's sour about it, but he doesn't tell me to tell the dog to get off the couch.
I'm easy, okay?
After a long pause in that conversation, I turned to the Spouse and said, "I should have a Look At All The Fucks I Don't Give Jar."
He gave me one long look before he burst out laughing.
"No, I'm serious," I tell him. "A lot of things make me happy, but a lot of things stress me out, too. I need something to remind me not to stress out over the stupid shit that happens every day. If I'm going to write down the Fuck I Don't Give, I have to write down the thing that stressed me out but I have to make it funny. That way, I can't stress out about it if it makes me laugh."
"Huh. That's not a bad idea, actually. But, really, are you going to keep a jar around and actually fill it?" The Spouse, alas, knows me well -- I have a few scattered projects in the house that I've never finished.
"No," I said, sulking. Then I had a brilliant idea. I reached for my iPhone. "I wonder if there's an app for that."
The Spouse laughs at me.
"Come on, there's got to be an app for that. Think about it. If there isn't, whoever builds this app is going to make a fortune."
...
An hour after that conversation, he's still laughing at me, and I'm still looking for an app.
I don't have a Happiness or Good Things jar. I decided a long time ago to live every day doing things that make me happy -- and since it makes me happy to make other people happy, I also try to do those things. I'm not always very good at it. I have good days; I have bad days.
But my point is, I'd go nuts filling that Happiness jar. I'd end up with jarS. Even the Spouse acknowledges that I wouldn't do well with a Happiness Jar, because I'd stop adding things once it was full, and I'm pretty sure I could make it full within a single month. Because, things make me happy, okay? They don't have to be big. I mean, letting the pup up on the couch so that he can snuggle with me? That makes me happy. The sour look I get from the Spouse when he spots the dog on the couch, curled up next to me? That makes me happy, mostly because he's sour about it, but he doesn't tell me to tell the dog to get off the couch.
I'm easy, okay?
After a long pause in that conversation, I turned to the Spouse and said, "I should have a Look At All The Fucks I Don't Give Jar."
He gave me one long look before he burst out laughing.
"No, I'm serious," I tell him. "A lot of things make me happy, but a lot of things stress me out, too. I need something to remind me not to stress out over the stupid shit that happens every day. If I'm going to write down the Fuck I Don't Give, I have to write down the thing that stressed me out but I have to make it funny. That way, I can't stress out about it if it makes me laugh."
"Huh. That's not a bad idea, actually. But, really, are you going to keep a jar around and actually fill it?" The Spouse, alas, knows me well -- I have a few scattered projects in the house that I've never finished.
"No," I said, sulking. Then I had a brilliant idea. I reached for my iPhone. "I wonder if there's an app for that."
The Spouse laughs at me.
"Come on, there's got to be an app for that. Think about it. If there isn't, whoever builds this app is going to make a fortune."
...
An hour after that conversation, he's still laughing at me, and I'm still looking for an app.