what's the status, Gladys?

I'm back, Jack!

I'm feeling so much better.  Yippee!!

Migraine gone.  Check.

Depression gone.  Check.  (ssshhh, let me live in denial today)

Pool swimmable again.  Check.  I even mustered up 5 minutes to clean yesterday.  I bargained with myself to clean for 2 minutes and then milked another 3.  Go me.

I've pretty much solved world peace at this point.  Once I wash my hair, I might just call it a crowning achievement of a day.

Happiness is a skill, and I am going to master it before I die.  10,000 hours makes me a master, right?  And before any of you smartypants tries to ruin my day by telling me that the 10,000 hour rule has been debunked, not for cognitive scenarios, it hasn't.

If I do the math, that works out to ~417 days, but that excludes sleeping and general annoyances which crop up.  I hate to rain on my own parade, but I'm pretty sure I'm not that happy during sleep.

[TANGENT: I won't even try to interpret the crazy dream I had the other night that was fueled by meds, pain, and constant ice on my head.  The good part is that I traveled abroad without suffering through the hours long plane trip.  I socialized with a bunch of people I've never met, none of whom spoke English.  It was bizarrely detailed and interesting.]

Therefore, excluding sleep, migraines, and general annoyances would then translate to 10,000 days of Wendytime because I could practice happiness for an hour a day, right?  That works out to approximately 27 years.  Are we there yet??  I'm making good time though, right?  :)