Is it just me, or does time just speed through our existence like a New Yorker having somewhere to be? All I’ve heard this year from my female cohorts is about “gratitude”. “Oh, it’s so great she just has so much gratitude.” WTF does that mean? I mean not to be the cynical asshole I am, but who gives a shit?

I’m grateful for the fact that I get to work, not one, but three jobs just for the ability to pay the city, the state, or the United States of America. I’m grateful for the long hours I put in for people who do not think I am worthy of my cooler, more agency employed friends. I’m grateful for the opportunities that present themselves as shiny, secure balls of freedom that dangle before me, luring me on adventures that end up with me being the last woman standing. I’m thankful that I don’t have to wear a mask to see my friends and family anymore even though some of them are incapable of realizing that a certain someone escalated this to biblical proportions.

It all sounds very angry, but I assure you these are just the little things. I am grateful for a lot in my life. The patience I need to get through things, the people in my life who are truly friends I can take to a bar fight, use as a character witness, or who will hide the body with me. I’m no saint, we all know being a natural born sinner encompasses bad feelings, tempting moments, and perhaps pent up aggressions, but I think I am working my way to being a better person. I just want a little less bullshit with my coffee in the morning, is that so much to ask? I mean what is the purpose of this life if we are not allowed to be grateful to those things who make up who we are today? I have many thanks that the DNA that was intermingled to create moi, has the capacity for forgiveness and loyalty. I’m grateful I haven’t lost a limb, or broken one for that matter. I’m grateful I do not have some rare disease that would have hindered an otherwise normal existence. I am thankful that people are still in disbelief that I’ve lived this amount of time on Earth. I have so many individual thanks to give because every person in my inner world has seen the best, and most definitely the worst of me and have continued to love me. So, what are we giving thanks for really? That you got the “whew, glad I’m not them” stick? I mean when you are sitting at the table with family, thanking them and all the good things God has given you, don’t you think that is a little selfish?

For me the gratitude I feel is for others. I am humbly thankful my social circle hasn’t killed me for the amount of ranting I do in one sitting and yet they let me sip on whiskey and nod in accordance. I am grateful to those who share the intimacy of breaking bread with them and who nourish my intellectual side because fuck all talking to unintellectual people who come across as celebrated dilettantes. I am grateful to those who’ve given me the gift of music and the escapism of art, for without it I could not ease my mind in troubled times. I am grateful for the 20 something who just called me hot at the bar. I’m thankful for every single man who broke my heart making me realize fairytales do not exist, but also making me a very difficult partner. I, in turn, am thankful that I have the ability to be everyone’s sounding board for their incredible sufferings.

I find that waiting for some very politically incorrect holiday, guised as a way to come together to give gratitude to those things that are just a given, is kinda a dumb tradition. Am I thankful for this life? Meh, I mean I didn’t have much of a choice, but I’m here and I make the best of it. Am I thankful for my family, sure. They impacted my life in the most psychological and fundamental ways making me the bright and shining star I am today (yes, I know you just spit your drink out).

I guess what I’m trying to surmise here is that I don’t need a holiday or a trend to encourage me to be humbly thankful for every good thing that’s come my way. I’m just thankful I get to learn and grow in this life. I’m not sure what it all means and I have much to put in a dumpster fire, but I am grateful that my level of “what could be a whole lot worse” has not reached its peak yet. I would rather hear more thank you’s when I open a door or help someone in need. I’d rather thank the chef for sharing his food soul with me or give gratitude for the healthcare workers that have gone through a horrific time. I’d rather give good teachers kudos for educating children to be smarter humans as with good parents raising better ones. This is everyday. Grace is more than the prayer you’re reciting at the table, it is the generosity and kindness we give to those more fucked than we are. Be thankful for those who do the same for you in times of need. Now pass the stuffing and the cranberries because just as you are giving thanks on this day, you won’t see either of these things for a whole other year.