Happiness is: having a hectic few days at work, leaving your office at 5:30pm to drive .15 miles down the street to park near the facility where your (second in a row) evening class (with an unrelated evening meeting the night before last night - all of which means I AM TIRED) begins at 6pm, getting stuck for 25 minutes on Webster Street between 12th and 8th (PEOPLE! 25 minutes to go .15 miles! THIS IS NOT NORMAL!), finally getting over to Franklin Street and parking, rushing to the building, sitting down and having a staff person come in and announce, "Your teacher is actually in the hospital, so there is no class tonight, please sign in and take your booklet for Saturday's class - he's sure he will be here for Saturday's class."
It sounds like he was held on a technicality but was otherwise fine. Which makes me feel better about not being the only one who sighed a big sigh of relief that there was no 3 hour class tonight... after which we all muttered "wow I hope he's OK."
Oh, and a warm gun is also happiness. So I hear. My warm guns kinda freaked me out a few years ago, so I can't confirm that one.
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