"Boy, you got it made there."

An older woman I don't know (new neighbor? Visitor?) just left the pool and walked by me on her way back to whatever apartment she came from. While passing, she commented at me, with a smile, "Boy, you got it made there."

Her comment was based, I'm sure, on the fact that I'm relaxing in the shade, lazily reading/writing on my laptop, smoking a cigar and probably looking as relaxed and serene as I feel.

"Yes," I commented back to her, thoughtfully, with a smile. "Yes, I do."

The summer afternoon is right at my perfect level - warm, but not too hot, with the sun not yet shining directly down on my patio, but safely overhead behind the roof. There's a very slight breeze occasionally blowing, and the sky is blue and clear.

I had a good night's sleep last night, which was a rare thing. I got up feeling refreshed, rose and got to some studying I'm doing to prepare for the job interview I have coming up on Tuesday, which is for the exact type of position that has NOT been showing up on want ads for the past six months. I was able to focus and get a good chunk of my reading done without my mind wandering to other things I'd rather be doing, because preparing for such a fortuitous interview is nothing but a pleasure.

I'm taking a break from it and catching up on a couple of things on my fully-functioning laptop that's giving me no errors and my internet connection is not going down, causing me to go back inside to reset the router, something that's been happening a lot lately. I happen to have a couple of cigars left, my favorite, familiar brand, and this particular cigar is not rolled too tight or too loose, but has just the right draw. And I can smoke it without being anxious or guilty, because my long-time upstairs neighbor - he of the open windows who refused to use his A/C - moved out several days ago, and the apartment, for now, sits vacant.

My folks have a job. After eight months of heartache, frustration and challenged faith, they're relaxing today in their temporary home on Sierra Vista, Arizona, waiting for the first Monday of the job to begin. It's not a long-term job, and may only take three or four months, but it's a job, and it's a paycheck, and their relief brings me a peaceful gladness.

I've just spent three days in a row out doing things with good friends, enjoying their company and catching up on old times, and during that time I saw two amazing movies, and saw both for free thanks to free movie passes given to me back during the holidays by family members who know what makes me happy.

I'm checking Facebook and Twitter and finding out what friends (and favorite celebrities) are doing with their Sundays, and there seems to be a universal enjoyment of the day going on, and spirits are high and thankful.

My stomach isn't perfect, but it's not treating me worse than normal, and my hearts seems content to operate like it should and not distract me with its fussing.

Children are playing in the pool - happy, but not screaming. Neighbors are strolling by, in no rush to get where they're going, clearly content with the day and their lives.

I have a list of things to do with the remainder of my day, and look forward to - instead of resent - completing them, and to the feeling of accomplishment that will come with doing so.

I'm alive and well, have a life populated by amazing people who enrich it just by being in it, live in what I still consider to be the greatest state in the union (economy paling in comparison to the weather and the scenery), have a roof over my head in these troubled times, and looking ahead to a future that feels ripe with possibility and adventure instead of heavy and wearying.

Yes. I do seem to have it made here.

I hope this Sunday finds you feeling the same.