Please don't call it "turkey day"

Happy Thanksgiving. I made a sweet potato pie today that was surprisingly good for something I did without the help of a George Foreman grill. I guess you just can’t go wrong with a stick of butter, a cup of sugar, and some rum. Those things are good in a pie too.
Here are some things (but certainly not everything) I am thankful for:

• The window over my kitchen sink.
  
• My elderly dog Murphy
  
• I only have 3 more exercise classes left with C. Addle. (Not that it isn‘t fun, but it seems pretty advanced and “Somebody’s going to get hurt” as my mother used to say)
  
• I have a designated driver for next weekend
  
• Victoria Secret cotton panties
  
• The cast of Grey’s Anatomy are not real doctors.
  
• Two of my old boyfriends
  
• Verbena scented skin care products
  
• Inko’s Blueberry White Tea
  
• I now have adequate water pressure in my shower.
  
  It goes without saying that I am thankful for my friends. Well, it goes without bulleting at least. I’m especially thankful for the ones who are younger than me . . . late 20s, early 30s, walking around with their grande cups of soy latte bullshit and making that little gesture with their thumb and pinkie to illustrate calling someone. They’re so cute with their optimism and their “Let’s try such-and-such; it might be fun!” And I patiently try to explain that I’ve already tried to have fun, with mixed results. But then I end up doing such-and-such, which is probably good for me.