Fair

I always complain about my life and things. But really, I'm so, so thankful.

I'm thankful for great friends, especially David, who I don't see as much of anymore unfortunately, but that's hardly his fault. I'm pretty impressed with the way he figured out what he wanted to do, a thing most people consider a silly childhood fantasy, and made it happen. If the rest of us possessed a quarter of his will to achieve, then we would be beyond most modern problems. David is the most impressive specimen of humanity I have ever encountered, I don't think there is a single quality he has that is not enviable.

Jenni, of course it goes without saying, I'm incredibly grateful to have around. She's a woman of unusual taste, which is fortunate for me, because I doubt she would have ever fancied me at all if that were otherwise. She's forgiving, possessed of an impressive intellect, kind, and more beautiful to look at than a soft place to lie down after a week of no sleep. Trust me. I know.

But also all my friends, I am thankful of. They're good people, except perhaps one, and I'm happy to know I'm not an island. As a whole, they're wonderful people. Always ready to overlook the latestly horribly rude or vile thing I've done for some stupid reason.

My mother works incredibly hard for her family in a job that is sometimes so stressful it makes her feel sick, to the point of immobility. She gets so much hard luck she doesn't deserve, and still finds time to be a really nice lady. She's unbelievably devoted to her home.

I'm also pretty pleased with my possessions. I'm a pretty material person - I don't mean that I'm obsessed with owning the world, but rather I take comfort from the reliability of the things I own. Such as my watch, or my leatherman, or the phone I'm using to write this. If I were without but one if those things for a day, I'd be very distressed. But other things too. My clothes that fit me nicely, and my sturdy boots.

I often feel terribly guilty that such a poor person was given such great people to hang around and such wonderful things to touch and taste and smell. It makes me sad that most anyone from some country where the children starve would be better fitted to live my life, and love the people I love so much more effectively, and truly, and with a greater capacity for expressing that love.

But that is not the way of things. The good perish, and the wicked thrive. I am proof of the injustice of life, that this place will not reward the great, the brilliant, and the selfless, anymore than anyone. Rather, it is willing to give a genius moldy bread, and me, the worst kind of person (before people who literally go out to cause suffering) a new laptop.

Oh well.