Half Glass

Mr. L’s parents tell me they work with him about a looking at things from the positive.  Even when they explained to then ten-year-old about looking at things from the perspective of the glass half full, he said, “You know Mom, when the glass is half empty and you’re supposed to think about it as half-full…”

This got me thinking.

Maybe Mr. L’s half-empty is indeed positive.  Afterall, [tweetthis] half-empty has room for more. [/tweetthis] Because, well, because it has all that empty space. Perhaps all those who seem to be pessimistic are more optimistic than we give them credit for.  Perhaps looking at pessimism from another perspective can make it seen as a positive.  Afterall, if I always think the worse will happen, I can only be pleasantly surprised by the outcome — never disappointed.

Do here’s some of the things I don’t like, from a different perspective:

What goes down, must come back up. This is the steepest.

Whew!  I’m so happy last week is in the review mirror.  Deadlines converging and fluid schedule is wonderful in so many ways.  And overwhelming in others.

CoCo got up in a grumpy mood.  She complained all the way to work. Maybe a little gratitude?

[tweetthis]”You know, I heard on The Talk last week, that starting the day with gratitude makes you happier and healthier. Let’s each name three things.”[/tweetthis]

Grumble.

A tornado touched down in the county where I live.  Nobody hurt. The winds and rain knocked down one of our trees. tree down - 1 Again, nobody hurt. Even most of the flowers sprang back to life, perhaps stretching in the sun after years in the shade.  I swear one of my garden flocks bloomed while Loved-One and I cleaned up the mess. [tweetthis]Summer is full of surprises. [/tweetthis]Of course, top on my list is:  Nobody hurt.  And in no particular order some other things for which I give thanks:

♥ My editor, Lisa Romeo.  You are just the right blend of gentle, clear, and firm.  Just the kind of editor I need.

😉 Wheelbarrows.  I filled one with sticks from all over other parts of the yard.  Who

This week I had three separate frets.  By the third fret, Loved-One got a bit anxious.

“You’re always so calm,” he said.  “It’s hard for me to see you agitated.  I’m afraid you might lose it.”

Mind you, [tweetthis]I just clamped my jaw tight and began swift and furious paper shuffling.[/tweetthis].

In one instant, I made cell-phone calls in quick succession.  No throwing or shouting or swearing or stamping, or hitting of animate or inanimate objects.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Loved-One suggested.

I really wanted