I really don't know clouds at all.

I have unexplained happiness lately. Just, bursting at the seams, skipping down the road like a fool, exclaiming over interesting pieces of lint, laughing like I can't stop, kind of happy, and all for no discernible reason.

I am so happy that I almost broke my hip dancing in the shower to Whitney Houston songs.

I am so happy that even my cries are happy. I burst into tears yesterday; fat plentiful tears that streamed down my face and into my wine. I sobbed from the soles of my feet, and it was delicious. It was one of the best cries of my life.

I am so happy that my pockets are full. Everything in the world seems worth exclaiming over. I went out to lunch with a friend and was so bowled over by the little toothpick in my wrap, the kind with coloured cellophane on top, that I shoved them both in my pocket to bring home for my scrapbook. Then in her car, I found a piece of string that was balled up in the shape of my friend Thomas. As soon as I picked it up it didn't look much like Thomas anymore, but I found it so noteworthy that I put it in my pocket so I could mail it to him later. At the end of every day, I empty my pockets in show-and-tell fashion for Jason. Neither of us can remember ever using pockets before this, for anything.

I am so happy that Jason has gained 5 pounds. I've been roasting turkeys and boiling lobsters, and baking my famous cheesecakes. I send him to work with 7 course lunches. You can smell things cooking from 3 blocks away. I pile his plate high with all of my happiness, and things are so happy that Jason is just 2 steaks away from a happiness coronary.

I am so happy that the house is brimming with my artistic endeavors. I have sketchbooks filled with happiness; canvasses still dripping in it. I am so happy that I sewed up some throw pillows last night, and I don't even know how to sew.

I am so happy that I have a headache. I am a happy person to begin with. I try to live my life with much passion. I live big. I like my days to rate 10 out of 10 on the happiness scale, but somehow my scale has been amplified and I'm experiencing 57s. My head throbs with happy; my heart races with happy; the little hairs on the back up of my neck stand up on end with happy. I have so much happiness that it's falling out my ears and I have to carry tupperware around with me to pick up the excess.

I am so happy that I haven't slept in 4 days. It's been over 100 hours since I last slept. Every time I lay down, happiness brims over and I jump to my feet to be happy some more. I am shaking with happiness, and having hot flashes of happiness.

I am so happy that Jason brought me to the doctor. "She's crazy" he said. "I am not!" I retorted. "I'm just happy." The doctor looked at us both, and said "Actually, she's euphoric. It's the pills." And I was so happy that I kicked her in the shins.