When I got home today, my sister asked me why I was so happy. Why did I laugh at everything she said? What did I have to be so happy about? She wanted me to spill the beans, but, really, there were no beans to be spilt.

Why am I happy today? There’s no particular reason. I just am. I want to be happy, so I am. And I think that’s good.

(And something to share, as well.)

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