There seems to be an almost delectable thread of irony heading through my life as I head into Thanksgiving Day. Strangely enough, a few days ago I could have spouted for what would have seemed hours at all of the wonderful things to be thankful for, but somehow enough things have happened to come to a head that the same time that it’s a bit more difficult to extract the wheat from the chaff.

I guess I can’t pretend to be surprised about not being appreciated at work; apparently the majority of Americans are unhappy with work, but it doesn’t help the spirit of Thanksgiving to find out you were passed over for promotion *again*. Couldn’t it wait until *after* the holiday for once?

Then a long time friend turns out to only talk to you when he needs something … There’s no surprise in that, until you find out that he’s going to great lengths to abscond with something and avoid communicating with you at all. That’s just not necessary. Couldn’t we save some of these wonderful gifts for Christmas?

Another friend is moving away, and can’t be bothered to call you before he leaves. I couldn’t make up something this ill-timed if I tried…

So what am I left with? I’m going to finish this posting the same way every other glib Thanksgiving post has ended for as long as there have been glib Thanksgiving posts; by explaining all of the things that I *am* grateful for, after disregarding all of the awful things I’ve seen fit to grouse about.

Family looks like it’s the only thing you can count on. Whether natural or adopted, human or animal, your family is just about the only thing you can count on, no matter how bad times get. (Unless you’ve got parents like the Ramseys or Yates, in which case, run like hell.)

Ugh. This is what getting older feels like — everything turns out all sweet and saccharine, no matter how bitter and corrosive it started out.