Better than Prozac

For the first time in a long time, I'm genuinely happy. Things are good; life is good; work is good; I've taken stock of the things I'm doing, and the things I've accomplished, and I feel really good about them all, finally.

That's not to say I've been really unhappy for a long time. No, I think there have been bursts of happiness--or at least good things that I've liked and that offered temporary satisfaction. But there's always seemed to be some emptiness, an emptiness that often causes me to dive into a new project to try and fill it. And it's also not to say I'm without project right now, because I'm throwing myself into a few things, but it really feels like I'm doing those things because I want to, not because I'm filling a void.

Last week I had happy hour with my favorite old work friends, FCA and Karate, and each of them commented on how I seemed happier, more at ease, and just plain comfortable. It wasn't until they pointed that out to me that I actually realized it, and really began to appreciate it. Instead of freaking out about what's next, or continually pressuring myself to take the next step, or at least position myself for the next big thing, I'm really just looking at the now and enjoying it for what it is. This is new to me; for an incredibly wound up and high-strung person, I'm really mellow these days and I like it.