Half empty or half full?

In the case of life, I guess I would say I'm a glass half-full kinda girl. I've always thought I was a reasonably positive person who has forays into moodiness of every conceivable variety (except there was this guy I worked with years ago who said I was the most negative person he'd ever met in his life. Which was kinda weird, but I wonder if his perception was skewed by the fact that I wouldn't sleep with him. But see, I was kinda put off a bit by the fact that he had a fiancee - who worked at the same place - he'd neglected to tell me about).

I've got this bottle of coleus extract I'm taking to help with a health issue of almost two decades' duration. So after that long, you'll be prepared to do whatever it takes to get the issue sorted, right? Well, dammit if this stuff isn't just the foulest, most disgusting stuff I've ever had the misfortune to have to have 2 teaspoonfuls of, 1 morning, 1 evening, until said bottle is finished. It better damn well work, that's all I can say, because looking down the neck of this particular bottle, my view is always a half full one. In fact, this bottle will still be 1/269th full when I have one more teaspoon to go. Some bottles are only good when they're completely, entirely empty.

Speaking of completely, entirely empty, my angst-ometer is sitting at empty. Dunno if it's this burst of barometrically static weather we're having, the Indian summer that is making up for the pissy real one that's gone before. Probably, it's most likely because this last two weeks is the best health I have experienced in about 10 years. I feel good. I do a whole wad of stuff, go to bed, get up, and have energy to do a whole wad of stuff. I can't begin to explain how that feels. I don't think it can be appreciated until it is taken away from you. And so now I find myself sounding like an 85 year old, saying, "If you don't have your health, you have nothing" and such nuggety bits of wisdom. 'Cause they're true.

And so with the health - thank you, God, thank you, God, thank you, God - comes this peace and contentment. Didn't that Paul dude say something that contentment with Godliness is great gain? Well, I don't know about the godly part, but I feel like a cat in a dairy. Paul also said to be content with a quiet life, and that thought used to make me sigh and think how boring - but right now, from where I've been, a quiet life of creativity and nature immersion sounds just ... well, kinda divine.

I don't want what I haven't got. I don't know how long it's been since I could say that. I don't know what my life holds in the future. I don't know if I'm gonna have to move house sometime soon. I don't know what my life holds for me workwise, romantically, creatively. And none of it concerns me in the slightest. Today, with the sun shining, even knee-deep in more housework, I can say ... bring it on, whatever it is. But whatever it may be, right now, I'm living today. Even if it's staring down the neck of a bottle that's still half bloody full :)