The inordinate number of things that make me spectacularly happy in very small ways

I don't really talk about them much, I realize that. There are so many wondrous things in the world, that very often get drowned out by the horrifying injustices. As I've been ill recently, these have been invaluable. There's something profoundly wonderful about a cough drop that not only makes the scratchy, icky sore throat go away, but are chocolate. I talk for a living, trust me, they are a reason for tiny little squees of joy.

 Since I'm both a reader and writer, who still writes in longhand on occasion, a properly comfortable, medium point pen and a college-ruled notebook with satiny-smooth paper are a reason for delight. I'm fairly certain I appear quite odd when I flip open notebook covers and run my fingertips over the pages, but the end result is worth it.

Good friends, friends who understand what you mean without having to re-quantify and qualify it.

Chocolate, period, full-stop.
Laughter, from a fizzy giggle to a low chortle and the full-on belly laugh.
The first cup of coffee in the morning, that bitterness tinged with cream and sugar.
A steaming mug of tea on a cold evening, coziness in a ceramic shell.
The cuddly stretch of a kitten into the curve of my neck and shoulder, accompanied by a rumbling, even purr.
Re-reading a beloved book.

I could keep listing things, but ultimately, everyone's got to make their own list. As for what reminded me of all this, that would be Neil Gaiman, who very often blogs about the sort of ordinary wonders that comprise a life. Yes, there are a lot of cool, famous author-y things, too. A lot of times, it's the gentle and everyday beauty that we so often miss.

It's better to pay attention.