The Little Things That Instantly Make My Day Better

Why storytelling is a skill, not a popularity contest

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Do you know how I started writing?

After a prolonged and complicated divorce, I joined a peer support group to pick up the shattered pieces of my self-esteem. There I met a former high school English teacher named Dana.

She suggested I try writing because she thought I was good with expressing my emotions.

I decided to run with it.

Dana has a finely tuned intuition. She knows when I am upset. And she has the perfect pick-me-up.

She sends me pictures of her gorgeous Tuxedo, Bart — short for Bartholomew in his distinguished gentleman poses. I am in love with Bart. Petting him and listening to his purrs is free therapy.

And yes, as you may have noticed, I am a cat lover.

Each time Dana sends me those impromptu pictures, they never fail to uplift my spirits.

It’s funny that many of the things that give me joy are the little things — those that will never make it to an Instagram aesthetics page with affiliated links that can really burn a hole in the wallet.

A cuppa tea, a walk at one of the parks in my city, or lunch al fresco with myself.

And an occasional splurge.

In one of my outings, I met a lady who smelled amazing.

Are you like me, intrigued by a good scent?

I asked her what she wore, and she said Hermes Barenia. I am obsessed with perfumes, so I looked it up, and it was sold out at the local Sephoras. No wonder, because it smells that good. So I drove down to Bloomingdale's and snagged the last of them.

Something else I am learning to do as a high-functioning introvert is to smile more at others. It’s something I’d highly recommend. It really does brighten up the day.

I haven’t learned to lower my guard around my inquisitive relatives yet. It’s like giving an inch, and they take a mile. I wonder if their lives are so boring that their entertainment is poking their noses in other people’s lives.

For instance, a relative called me and tried to give me unsolicited advice that my shutting (him) people out would result in me being completely isolated. Well, it is people like him who make me wary with their ‘questions.’

I politely told him I’d ask him for advice if I needed it. I mean, since he is not qualified in anything I need advice in, including life, I was being sarcastic.

Hopefully he got the hint. However, I doubt it because he loves to pontificate.

That brings me to a recent comment that made me smile, and you’d be surprised at my strange reaction to the criticism.

Someone thought I was mean for calling out a date for having teeth flecked with breakfast eggs when he took me out to dinner.

I didn’t want to kiss my date because I was disgusted. But this commenter took umbrage at my tone. He also wondered why many people found my story amusing.

Okay. He is entitled to his opinion.

But would he kiss a date with unbrushed teeth or a bad smell emanating from them?

Well, that’s all I did — run away as fast as I could!

Pray do tell, kind sir, in what formal, chaste English am I supposed to recount a story from my vantage point so I don’t step on anyone — my partner, grown children, family, society in general, or your toes?

That’s a problem today — coloring between the lines to safeguard yourself from attacks.

I wish life truly was PG mode. It isn’t. At least not in my experience, and I won’t whitewash it.

The commenter doesn’t realize this is part of storytelling. Some enjoy plain vanilla ice cream, while most like it with a little extra extra.

In other words, I doubt you’d eat through 8 minutes of plain ice cream if you had the option of 3 minutes of Graham Central Station.

Perhaps people like him prefer to read stories from ‘nice writers’ — a perfect mom, obedient daughter, helpful colleague, or a butter-won’t-melt-in-your-mouth type of woman who would never criticize or ghost at the drop of a hat.

He is free to do that.

This commenter might assume I am not a good storyteller because I say it as I see it. Fair enough. I don’t claim I am.

There are storytellers, and then there are storytellers. One such for me is Tracy Cranford. I am also blown away by a poetess, Sita. Very remarkable, and that too at such a young age.

I am just happy to paddle in my lane in a sea of incredibly talented people.

What else makes me smile?

At the end of the day, it feels wonderful to turn down the lights and crawl into my one non-negotiable — my soft yet crisp bedsheets. I have had sleep issues, and I learned that the sheets matter a lot because they affect your body temperature, moisture control, and skin comfort.

So, as you can see, many little things make my life better— the freedom to do what I want, derive joy from simple pleasures, and express myself through blogging.

How about you? What is one thing that makes your day instantly better?

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