I think a significant amount of one’s happiness depends on small pleasures. I was at home today, working on a story, and I thought I would document some of the small pleasures I gave myself throughout the day. Because I do rather insist on the small pleasures.

The first one was breakfast: oatmeal with raisins, and orange juice mixed with sparkling water. Eaten while I was reading my email and checking on blogs in the morning. I usually run out of the house, grabbing two slices of toast and two Baby Bell cheeses, so having a warm, slow breakfast feels luxurious.

Yes, this picture is of a shower curtain.  It represents the pleasure of a hot shower. Is there a more luxurious pleasure than hot water? I think I’ve lamented, in the past, the claw-foot bathtub that we had in our Boston apartment. I will lament that bathtub until I get my next one, or until the day I die – whichever comes first.

The third is perfume. These are Origins Ginger Essence, which is my everyday perfume, Chanel No. 5, which is my perfume for evenings at the opera or other gala events, and Ralph Lauren’s Romance, which I have to admit I’m not actually that fond of anymore. It’s rather strong, and I have to be in the mood for it.

And then of course there’s the pleasure of a made bed. There’s something irritating about seeing an unmade bed. I have a hard time leaving beds unmade even in hotel rooms. Yes, that’s the pillow I bought at a thrift store. You can get a lot of small pleasures at thrift stores. (Let me just add that I never understood the importance of flannel sheets before I moved to Boston. Now, I so understand.)

And here is the pleasure of a deeply ridiculous cat. But the cat has to be truly, deeply ridiculous. Cordelia fits the bill nicely. She makes such interesting shapes as she rolls around, and she shreds the paper on my desk so efficiently. And climbs on the printer. And throws up mice. (I’m starting to reconsider including her as a pleasure . . . And if she is a pleasure, I’m not sure she’s a small one!)

I took those pictures this morning. For lunch I had a cheese sandwich and an apple, but I didn’t take a picture of those, because how many pictures of food can I take, really? And I sat around in yoga pants and socks, writing a story, which qualifies as a great rather than a small pleasure. I don’t get to do that enough, nowadays.

I spent most of the day writing and listened to Loreena McKennitt, because I can listen to her with only half my brain. The other half of my brain can continue working. I don’t know if that’s kind to Loreena McKennitt, who actually writes wonderful and not particularly ignorable music. But it is the perfect music to write to, at least for this story.

And finally, after I was done working on my story for the day, while I was writing this post, I had pomegranate chip coconut milk ice cream. Which is my new favorite.  No, I don’t eat every single meal sitting in front of my computer.  Ophelia and I had quite a nice dinner together (although while watching Pokémon).  But afterward, I did need to write today’s blog post.

This is a silly post, isn’t it? But I can’t write about what I’m working on, and I didn’t do anything else today, just write. So I thought I would at least write about the small pleasures that got me through a long day of work – through the great pleasure, but also the great effort, of writing.

And in general I recommend small pleasures, sprinkled judiciously throughout the day.  Just on principle, you know?