A List Of Things That Make Me Happy
I’ve read countless blogs and newsfeeds about people’s worst pet peeves, and although I’m sure I could amuse a good crowd with a list of all the stupid… STUPID things that drive me to an instant anxiety attack, I’m not going to focus on that today.
By 
Mei Mei
So often we get caught up in so much negativity that we forget to think about small little things that make us happy. I’ve read countless blogs and newsfeeds about people’s worst pet peeves, and although I’m sure I could amuse a good crowd with a list of all the stupid… STUPID things that drive me to an instant anxiety attack, I’m not going to focus on that today.
Normally, people describe pet peeves to be things that are usually small little happenstances or habits that irritate them to no avail. Well, a “happy bomb” is the opposite of that. They too are usually small, little life idiosyncrasies that make you feel like the world isn’t so bad after all. When they happen, it feels like a mini explosion of happiness. Thus, here is a list of my personal “happy bombs.”
When I get genuinely good service at a restaurant:
He remembered my name, my lemon, my weird allergy-specific order (because I’m one of those people with allergies to stupid things and I hate every minute of it) AND has a heavy pouring hand. Ugh. A man after my own heart.
When someone I wasn’t expecting notices and encourages me on something I’ve been working hard on:
“Hey buddy, just letting you know I’m thinking about you. You’re doing great! Keep it up!” – All I ever need. Thank you, my geographically distant friends. I love and miss you all.
When I’m ready to pay at the register and discover that what I’m buying is on sale:
I mean, let’s be real here. Who doesn’t love this?! Happy bomb deployed, target hit!
When music or art just… happens:
Random beat box session in the parking lot? Okay! Spray paint art in 6 minutes? Shut up and take my money, already.
When animals of different species get along:
I’m aware I have thousands of photos of my dog and my cat napping together. I’m sorry, Instagram… Sorry I’m not sorry.
When a song on the radio has serendipitous timing with what’s going on in my life:
Hey universe, are you trying to make me to cry in my car alone with a bag full of Arby’s? Nothing like curly fries and Stevie Nicks to mend a broken heart. Sigh. Who knew?
When I’ve forgotten about a TV series I recorded on my DVR only to realize later that I now have half the season at my disposal:
Warning. Warning. Binge watching mode in full effect. Closed blinds, Snuggie, tea, my cuddle-addicted pets and my faithful DVR. Happy bomb for days.
When I have a random craving for a snack that I actually have in my fridge:
Cravings sometimes suck when you don’t have access to satiate them. But when you do?? Oh man… Hey, Mr. Polly-O String Cheese: it’s. About. To go. DOWN.
When I’m able to match all of my socks after running the laundry:
So maybe this is just me, but I’m just all sorts of terrible at keeping my socks paired. So on the rare occasion that I’m able to successfully ball up each sock to their rightful partner, it’s a weird and very minor feeling of accomplishment. But it’s an accomplishment no less.
When I have a full tank of gas:
I ain’t sweatin’ the price. Just waitin’ until that pump clicks off on its own. BALLER STATUS. No wait, just kidding— click… click… click… $49.99… $50.01—DAMMIT. Whatever. I can make it to work until the next paycheck. Happy bomb go boom.
When I can actually sleep in and not be rudely interrupted by my bladder:
I’ve tried to strategically finish consuming liquids after a certain hour, but no matter my efforts, my bladder without fail will pull me out of bed earlier than the Mayans could even count as a new day. The special mornings that my plumbing’s timing works at a convenient hour are the happiest mornings I can recall.
When the gods of traffic shine down on me and I make it home in record time:
It’s happened. Only a few times, but there have been just a handful of days where for whatever reason and some magical phantom algorithm that never lines up any other time, I’ve been able to completely bypass the notorious Atlanta traffic and make it home cuss-free. That’s a happy daisy cutter, right there.
And lastly,
When my husband surprises me with an affectionate note:
This was the note I found stuck to my phone when I woke up yesterday morning. *Swoon.* Happy. Overload.
What are your happy bombs? 
