The Challenging Rooster: How to be Happy

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The Challenging Rooster

The Challenging Rooster: How to be HappyA month into the Year of the Rooster, the irritating poultry is crowing loudly. Being an Aries/Rooster combination is not always easy, but it’s also seldom dull. Being Aries, I thought, “Eh! Can’t be that bad for a Rooster, now can it?” I might have to reconsider my initial thoughts, but this is not about astrology, so please continue reading. How can the year of the Rooster possible be bad for the Rooster? Well, I want a refund! Spank that astrologist!

It’s been a hellish week, but it could be worse. Payoneer decided to deny me access to my money, and I was having visions of being homeless because of not paying the rent. After five days of largely ignored messages, e-mails, scathing Social Media posts, it was finally resolved, and I might still get my rent money in time.

Merch by Amazon hasn’t paid me in four months (Jeff Bezos must be bankrupt), and then Amazon KDP pulled my second bestselling book from sale. Why? Your guess is as good as mine. Apparently, I didn’t actually write the damn book. After twenty-four hours with no reply — and they still haven’t — they sent me the usual canned response … “Congrats, Format It Yourself! has been published!” Well, doh! The $3.99 question is why was it unpublished, denying me earnings so I can pay the rent?

The Challenging Rooster: How to be HappyNow, it’s the agent acting on behalf of the landlord testing my patience, but enough of that crap! Oh and yes, there will be exclamations used throughout. Please do grin and bear it as it’s called punctuation. I’m sorry if you were clubbed within an inch of your life with an exclamation mark as a child. This is not shake-a-spear, or fine literature. There will be commas, em dashes, absolutely no en dashes, and probably no dashes at all, but there is no guarantee. I might throw in a semicolon; for those in need of colonic irrigation.

The point is that you are solely responsible for how you see the world. I’ve had a shitty week, not unheard of in hell, but I’ve made the conscious choice to be happy nevertheless. The neighbour’s cat received a thorough brushing, and he has made me smile as per usual. A pair of exotic birds has been visiting my modest little birdbath. The weather has been great — you would never guess it was autumn — and the air conditioner in my car works like a deep freeze again, although the deep freeze in the kitchen is making some clickety clicking noises — mental note: phone somebody.

You may also want to read:  Happy Knew Hair!

Therefore, it could be worse. I could be missing a few legs, and several arms. I might have lost my penis or heaven forbid — my sanity. Oh, wait … I might have lost that a while ago. In fact, I rather suspect I did misplace it in the great depression of 1807.

Was I angry? You betcha! Was I upset? I was spectacular! Was I emotionally and physically exhausted, and sleep deprived from stress? What do you think? Was I depressed? No, don’t be ridiculous. I haven’t spent forty-eight years working on my issues to ‘suffer’ from depression because there are some mammoth arseholes in the world. Tomorrow, I shall be rich, and famous, and rich, and famous, and they will still be arseholes!

 

Go be happy! Buy Happy Now! You deserve it.

 

PS: Would anyone like to adopt rooster-sized, Jurassic cockroaches? I seem to have a surplus.


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