I dressed up, it was nice

I'm not going to worry about anything ever again. [Insert mental expression of disbelief here.]  But really, I've decided. I'm just going to be happy.  I think I'm happy right now, which is new and exciting, and my weekend was nice.  Nice is such a bland word, fairly vague, but it serves my purposes here, it has the perfect connotation, perfect for avoiding specificity, which I am a champion at.  It's so weird to feel this okay.  I mean, it's normal, and good, but simultaneously abnormal.  Really good songs keep coming up on my pandora stations, I have two new books to read, and I'm not really behind on any schoolwork, as far as I know.  I'm not going to tempt the fates by declaring that nothing can get me down (way too risky), but things are okay right now.  I want them to stay okay.  I'm trying out this thing called hope again, that pair of shiny new shoes that aren't quite comfortable yet.  That's what it seems like to me, anyway.  Hey, it's better than Buffy's whole cookie dough metaphor, that was getting ridiculous.