August Happiness Challenge – Day 15

My 2026 Happiness Icon

Today's Happiness: Two old ladies from Florida. This one is hard. I'm in a bad mood because of my neighbor (see post below) and because the Cardinals shellacked my Cubs. But then I looked at the mail I'd heedlessly tossed onto my coffee table.

 

I got two postcards today! One from my Cousin Rose, from her visit with cousin on her dad's side, Marlene. The other from my Aunt, on a road trip to Pigeon Fork with her husband and dog.

 

These are the last two people alive who held me as a baby. They both exasperate me – Rose because she can't stop telling me how to live my life and Auntie because she can't stop being more MAGA than thou. Yet they both love me. I know they do. And the universe reminded me of that today.

 

That's a lot to be happy about. 

Happy August Happiness Challenge!

 

Each day in August you are to post about something that makes *you* happy. Pretty simple. And, it doesn't even have to be every day if you don't want it to be. It's a great way to remind ourselves that there are positive things going on in our lives, our communities, and the world.

I'm not a Kardashian

I'm in a very bad mood as I write this. Something happened today that was unfair and I can't shake it.

My neighbor at the end of the hall is not well. Chris has mobility issues – he wears a brace on one of his legs – and some form of Tourette syndrome that causes him to yell loudly when he's alone. I can hear him when I'm in the hall, the same way I can hear other neighbor's music or TVs, and definitely when he's alone in the elevator because the acoustics carry sound like Judy Garland at Carnegie Hall. His downstairs neighbor hears him all the time through the bathroom vent but has never complained because understands Chris can't help it. 

I try to make allowances for that, too. I always smile, I'm always polite. He knows I am on the condo board and makes up questions about building business. I'm always tempted to say, "Why do you ask? You were at the meeting and know the answer!" But I know why he asks. He is lonely and is looking for connection. He also loves to intercept me on the backstairs, which only lead to two places: the laundry room and the dumpster. Yet he always asks, "Gal! Where are you going?" Well, if I'm carrying a box of Bounce fabric softener, I'm finishing my laundry. If I'm hauling a Hefty bag, I'm taking out the trash. So why is Encyclopedia Brown asking me this? Does he think I'm off to Madagascar to see a lemur in the wild? But I get that he's lonely and so I chirp a merry response and try to scurry away.

Most of all, there is the mail issue. Whenever anyone gets mail that doesn't fit in their mailbox, or receives Amazon packages, Chris delivers them to our doors. He bangs on the door, hoping we'll answer and thank him. He means well, but it's tiresome. I'm home, I'm behind my closed door. Maybe I'm still in my pajamas after noon. Maybe I'm watching a movie or reading. Maybe the game is on. Maybe I just want to be left the fuck alone. I don't like feeling as though I'm on call 24/7. I resent like feeling under obligation for a delivery service I never asked for and truly don't need. I also really, really don't like it when Chris asks, "What was in that big box I left for you yesterday?" I always say, "I order so much, I really don't remember."

But today! Today I felt especially intruded upon and it's galling. I order groceries from WalMart once every two months or so. I stock up on things I can't get at my local grocery store. This morning's delivery of 11 bags happened to arrive at just about the same moment as my every-two-weeks Subscribe and Save from Amazon. What are the odds?

Of course Chris showed up at that moment. He'd received an Amazon delivery in that same shipment, as had many of our neighbors. He literally brought a cart to do his rounds and deliver the packages (something again, no one has ever asked him to do). He offered to take my groceries up but I told him no. I don't need his help and besides, I don't want him nosing around my grocery bags, asking why I prefer Brawny to Bounty. I also told him not to bother with my Amazon box, I'd be back down in a moment for it. 

He argued with me! In front of the WalMart delivery girl. He insisted on following me up in the elevator with my Amazon box, after he delivered everyone else's. 

When he got to my front door, I opened it and took the big box. I thanked him and, with my front door open, he loitered. He's tall, making it easy to look over my head around my living room! Asking me meaningless questions about the condo board that I know he knew the answers to, stalling as his eyes darted around and surveyed my surroundings. 

MY SURROUNDINGS! I have the underbed boxes from my old bed stacked up in my livingroom, there to remind me to go through them before placing them back under my new bed. He saw the water bowls placed all over the living room, there to encourage Roy Hobbs to drink more. He saw the cellophane label that I've never thrown away because Connie likes pretend it's big game and chase it. He saw the shoes strewn all over, the sofa pillows I'd kicked onto the floor while lying down to watch the game.

I am not a public person. This is my life, not a reality show. My mess is not his business. This is my home. 

I have been so careful of his feelings that I've allowed him to trample mine.

I am just as mad at myself as I am at him. But still I am mad.