A warm bed. My health. A remodeled basement full of luxury toys. I’ve always felt that giving thanks for these gifts of privilege and happenstance would be too trite to be mentioned. My personal honor values only those achievements I have worked for, and to call myself grateful for the money that other people have given me, rather than the people themselves, makes me feel … ugh, common. I fear I have become irredeemably elitist. Probably true.

Instead of giving up, however, I have committed to showing better gratitude for those things that I should. I have so many people who care about me. It may be a small comfort, but climbing into a warm bed is, in fact, a luxury, as is my health, not to mention all the fun toys I get to have by virtue of my relationship.

In being fair to myself, I was able to provide a fine life for Clare and myself when we were together, and now Marcee is, perhaps karmically, reciprocating. Also, my needs are fairly simple, and I have no dependents, which allows me to capitalize effectively on the typically reasonable salary I could demand as a computer programmer. I think I should like to keep track of whether I could do so as a freelance theater artist. I’m guessing not, since so many of my friends need roommates and second jobs. I’m not certain. It might satisfy my male ego to know.