Gratitude

I'll be honest with you (I always am) I don't get near enough appreciation for all the stuff I do.  Really.  I should be showered with effusive thanks twenty-four-seven by everyone around me.  I mean it.  This is not on account of all the swell stuff I've done recently - although I'm owed a pretty hefty slab of thank-yous for that, too - I'm talking about back-payments on my manifold kindnesses since childhood that have gone completely unacknowledged or at best have gotten a grudging "thanks."

And I'm not even factoring in interest.  I mean, forget about that.  If you had to pay compound interest on all the gratitude you owed me, it would be impossible just trying to calculate it.  Frankly, the debt of gratitude is so enormous in the first place, you'll never be able to pay it back, so I'm actually depreciating it.  I'm knocking the price down just to make it easier on you.  To make it manageable.

You're welcome.

See, that's the kind of selfless thing I do all the time, and for which I get no recognition.

"Thank you."

Is that so hard to say?  And that's all I really want.  For a sincere, heartfelt, "Thank you," repeated over and over - with unflagging sincerity and heartfeltness - until I'm satisfied you've paid me back in gratitude from the bottom of your heart for whatever kind or typically unselfish thing I've done.

And then the next morning, I want you to think about what a nice person I am, and I want you to thank me all over again just for being me.

Is that so much to ask?