Happy-ish

I had a really insightful conversation with my friend B over the weekend (where I did all sorts of catching up with long distance friends before my phone died).
B is like me - smart, single, and just getting by.

We decided last night that we are "Happy-ish."

Which, roughly translated, means "Things could be a whole lot better, but we're enormously grateful for what we DO have." Which I also think means "disappointed but trying not to be a brat about it" or "struggling to find our place in the world and not end up as blisteringly irritating as an episode of Girls."

Then again, B and I also decided to text each other "dirty" pictures - like dishes in the sink, gum on the sidewalk, mud on our shoes, etc - just for laughs. This is how we are. So now, when guys we date ask us to send them dirty pictures (which has happened to us) we will have a bountiful number of pictures of trash to choose from.

 This is a dirty picture

Suck it fellas. We're LITERAL. Not idiots.

The term Happy-ish is sticking with me though. Because I'm stuck between thinking "there should be more than this" and "it could be (and has been) so much worse." Does that make sense? Am I too much of an apologist? Perhaps. But I'm trying to at least be grateful for what I have while still wanting my life to be better, to be even more. I suppose that is what everyone wants.

Is Happy-ish enough? Should I be satisfied with it?

Argh. I feel stuck again. I'm not sick but I definitely feel the January tireds. My get up and go has yet to reappear after it got up and went. I've been encouraged to make a return venture to daily free writing (basically, verbal spatter for three pages about whatever is in my head) but feel ambivalent about even that. Largely because my head feels empty, but also because it's supposed to be done by hand because it helps with the flow of brain-to-page. However, I'm starting to hate writing with my stupid hands, largely because I have hand pain pretty regularly. My doctor knows. It's pretty common. I remember a few years back, saying to my dad "My hands hurt. I think I might have the beginnings or arthritis or something." And he laughed. And that was that. Granted, when your dad is coming unraveled, he is not the person to take your "hand troubles" to, but I still just kind of chuckle and shake my head. Oh Dad.

Also I did not renew my kickboxing contract upon its expiration. Ever since my favorite Sensei mysteriously up and left, class hasn't been the same. The guy they have teaching it now is a freaking joke. The joy is gone. Now it's just me angrily beating (with lightning sharp speed and skill!) the crap out of a bag for an hour, then hurting for 2 days after. I'll just save up for a bag of my own and do it on the cheap at home. But quitting a kickboxing gym is like leaving Cobra Kai.

 It's hard. But you've got to do it. Moving forward with other fun, personally enriching activities! How does one follow up kickboxing? Trampoline?

Maybe some dancing. Something fun, and lacking in a contract. Commitment issues? Only to a gym.
And, perhaps, a blog.
Possibly going to start scaling back on posts. Lack of direction makes me feel like I'm just posting to meet a quota, rather than having something of interest to say. Even though I know you guys love the gifs. No one can resist a great gif. Amiright?

Ouch.