Oh Snap 2, the Thoughtful Sequel

Oh with the five hours of sleep.

So at the viewing last night, we heard a lot about the word, "grateful."

The person who died was a 43-year-old mother of an 13-month-old boy. She was a pretty amazing woman who meant the world to some pretty amazing people. We maybe had a crush on her back in the day, but this isn't about that.

As we drove our windowless car home last night, we kept thinking about her husband's eulogy, read at the end of the viewing. He'd found some of her journals. The last one was all about being grateful for everything, right on down to bunnies hopping around the yard.

Now. We spend most of our waking days thinking about shooting those bunnies, or making cynically jaded jokes about punting them.

We're not saying we're going to get all born again up in this bitch, but we are saying maybe we shouldn't, for instance, get so mad for no reason when we hear, say, cars beeping at one another 500 feet from our bedroom window at 7:30 in the morning.

And we shouldn't get so mad when a construction truck eases down the road in front of us when we're trying so desperately to get to the job we *love* so much.

And we shouldn't spend so much time focused on how "bad" our lot in life is right now, even when it really isn't.

Last week, we wrote a bunch of random questions about our own place right now. The theme was asking whether our life really is as bad as a laugh track to a God-awful 90s Fox sitcom. Obviously, it's not.

So we have to get a car window repaired today because some asshole stole our iPod. Hey. If that asshole wants to put it on "Shuffle Songs" and listen to Cash into 2Pac into Kathleen Edwards into Yonder into Counting Crows into Otis, then let him.

If someone wants to cut us off on the road, yeah well. What are we gonna do?

If it rains while we run, run faster.

If we're sitting at dinner, post-viewing, and the waiter says they forgot to put in our order, why get violently mad? Why not patiently wait and then make a passive-aggressive joke about making sure they cooked the now-harshly thrown together chicken wrap?

When there are deer on the side of the dark country road on the way home, why not slow down and think about how lucky you are one of them didn't try to play Frogger?

As we wrap up this here blog of 1,000 post goodness over the next few weeks, we'll look back at the last two years of keeping it, and hopefully we'll look more at the anger-diminishing entries rather than focus on a "0" next to comments. Hopefully we'll see growth, or maybe even tighter jokes.

We don't know. Maybe we're just grateful we see something.