I'm sitting on my couch in my living room, which feels brand new because we got a rug and moved stuff around and now it feels brand spankin' new. I love my house. I love being here. Andrew's in the city, at a work dinner, but it's OK, because I'm enjoying just being here. Nice.

I've been practicing just being at work. Not getting upset, not wishing for more, just being as good at what I'm currently doing as I can and trying to enjoy myself. It's really not so bad, especially now. And the practice is carrying over into my personal life, so I'm not always striving for more more more, just living for today and loving it.

I fear that I'm going to get older and be a miserable person. So many people get older and turn into miserable people. Why does that happen? Because they have expectations about the way they expected life to turn out, perhaps, but I don't even think it's that. I think misery prevents them from getting bored. Being happy can be boring. They have to have something to dwell on. I know that's the way I am -- always have to have my mind occupied, and if I'm content, there must be something wrong. I'm not doing enough, I'm not working hard enough, I have to strive for more. Being content is not an option. I have to stop that. I have so many good things going for me and I need to appreciate them, every moment of every day.