I’ve survived now, from hot summer to the first big snow.  I’m a week and some days shy of the six month mark.  I’m down 40 lbs now, having surpassed my initial “final” weight goal.

Today is Thanksgiving, and I’ve seen an overabundance of beautiful sentiment from friends, family, and general people of the online world.

And I guess I should be thankful I’m still alive and kicking and that, of the many worse outcomes there could have been, I’m physically relatively good.  I have a great family and some really good friends, a girlfriend that still puts up with my idiosyncrasies, a job, a roof over my head…

And so on.

But I’ll be damned if I can conjure up any genuine feeling of being truly thankful for any of it lately.