cookies and milk

        I like good endings to movies and books and visits, and I like good endings to my days, too. I always have, but it took me a long time to stop making bad ones instead. Every night, I used to either miss the chance to revisit the day, or, worse, I'd walk back through it feeling like a kid going to the principal's office. If I'd done ninety-nine things out of a hundred that day, I'd ignore the ninety-nine and stare at the one looming thing I'd messed up. Then I'd cross my arms and glare at myself and call myself names and tell myself how much better so-and-so would've done. It was like having a few sips of poison as a nightcap. But I don't do that anymore. I have cookies and milk instead. I start at the very beginning of the day, and I remember all its pieces. It gives me a chance to say thank-you for the dog and the fire and the guy at work who always has my back, and it gives me a chance to feel sad about things that got buried under all the busyness. It gives me time for I'm-sorry, too, but not the poisonous kind. Instead of I'm sorry I'm such a hopeless rat of a failure, I say I'm sorry I made You sad, because I know You love me higher than the stars. Sometimes I make it all the way through the day, and sometimes I fall asleep halfway. Either way, it's a good ending.