How to Know Your Own Happiness

“Know your own happiness. You want nothing but patience; or give it a more fascinating name — call it hope.”

-Jane Austen, Sense & Sensibility

Being single is hard. It’s awkward. I’ve been having a rough time with it. When you’re a 23-year-old college graduate with a decent job, everyone in America expects you to be with someone. I mean, you’re normal right? Why are you alone???

I got my taxes done this past Saturday, and Ronald, my new H&R Block accountant friend, nearly had a coronary when I told him I was SINGLE and not married. “You? !!!” He stuttered over my W-2’s. He shook his head like the world was ending.

Similarly, on Valentine’s Day I had to pick up 20 pink, red, and white balloons for a party at my work to celebrate my colleague’s 10-year anniversary with the company (held on Valentine’s Day, because, you know, we LOVE  her). When I was checking out, the cashier winked at me and said, “Your boyfriend’s a lucky guy!” Another associate across the store chimed in, “Super lucky!” I smiled blandly and stumbled out to the car, 20 obnoxious heart-shaped balloons of horror floating behind me.

People assume that since I look and act fairly normal (I mean, most of the time) that I must be doing the normal American thing and finding true love and all that jazz.

And I’m at home alone every Friday night, like…hey cat kids and Mugs, let’s watch Season 3 of Grey’s Anatomy for the 80th time.

Luckily, this shower curtain has made me feel better about existence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s the one, guys.

I’ve been searching for a new shower curtain since I painted my bathroom a fresh and uplifting coat of white last week. I bought one the day after I finished painting, and Austen’s expression in the picture below sums up how we both felt about it.

It was orange and pink and SUPER CHEERFUL and  it pissed me off every day. The walls are white, the rug is gray, and the tub is red. Throwing orange and pink into the mix was a mistake.

So I searched and searched. I went to SIX different stores this past Saturday, feeling desperate and worn down and alone and shower-curtain-less.

And then I saw it across the room at World Market. The shower curtain that made me forget about all other shower curtains.

(If you’re wondering, yes, I am standing on top of my baby sink to take this picture. Mugs is adequately concerned.)

It’s chevron and floral and perfect. Lightweight, airy, but still heavy enough to feel substantial. It lets in the sun but keeps in the steam.

Every day I wake up and get in the shower and I’m SO HAPPY. The chevron calms me. The riot of floral sings to my soul. The fact that I have six different colored towels doesn’t matter anymore, because now they all match my shower curtain.

Floribunda, how did I ever live without you?

In an act of fate, I also found this quirky fox print on the same day at the world’s best Goodwill.

We have to find happiness however we can. If a shower curtain and a clever fox are what give me hope, I’m okay with that.

What gives you hope and happiness, friends? I can’t wait to hear all about it. :)