In my non-fiction class, we read a piece titled "Rich rich rich"
The irony, of course, was the author's friend was undergoing unfortunate circumstances, but despite the trials, his friend considered himself "rich, rich, rich" (each word referring to each of his children).
It's lately that I've been feeling rich, rich, rich x infinity. Clearly, not because I have children that make me feel rich, but due to the wealth of blessings in my life.
Life is falling together, and it's times like this where I catch a glimpse of the big picture. Just for a moment. And I realize that my painting/tapestry/whatever else you want to call it, may not be perfect--it has imperfections and it's frustrating moments, but it's a beautiful picture once you step back and really look at it.
I've been blessed. Each night I go to bed too happy or overwhelmed to sleep. I haven't gotten sleep for weeks, honestly. Because despite the moments where I swear like a sailor, or want to chuck an old VCR over our balcony, I know that I'm still one lucky girl.
I have two wonderful jobs, I have an apartment to live in, I have incredible friends, I always have food (although sometimes I claim there's nothing to eat), I have an abundance of clothes to wear, I have a family that would do almost anything for me, and best of all, I have the most caring, wonderful guy that is more than perfect for me.
And, as I'm sure you can guess, the list could go on and on.
So, to sum it up, I am most definitely rich.
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