I am racing. Racing to write these words so I can race home before Middle Girl welcomes the little girls from her preschool class over for a play date. Racing. There is no school because of parent-teacher conferences and, yes, six or seven of her buddies will be arriving to hang and have lunch. Call me crazy, but I love this stuff. I love inviting people into our home, seeing them, talking with them.

Last night, I did just this. I hosted a Happier Hour with my inspiring friend and colleague Gretchen Rubin. The event was originally slated for two weeks ago, but Mother Nature had other plans when Sandy swept through. And so. Instead, we gathered last night. We gathered and connected and conversed. We asked questions and we listened. To each other, to Gretchen. She talked about her new book Happier at Home. She talked about happiness. She talked about life. We all did.

The night was incredible. When all the wonderful women left (yes, it was indeed a ladies salon with the exception of Husband and a lovely caterer), I was positively buzzing. I sat there on my kid-stained sectional and ate leftover sandwiches and candy, and smiled. I was indeed happier.

And today? Today I am tired, suffering from a true happiness/NyQuil hangover. I sit here in this coffee shop at my little table sipping my monster coffee, smiling into the screen. Outside, it is drizzling and people are doing their thing. It is just another day, and it is a good one. And I am full of thoughts and questions and even some answers, but mostly, I am brimming with happiness and gratitude.

And now I must pack up my things and race home to greet a slew of little girls.

Thanks so much to Gretchen Rubin for inspiring all of us last night and always. And thanks to all of you who joined me for what turned out to indeed be happier hours.

What makes your hours happier? Connection? Conversation? Candy? All of the above? If you were in at my home last night, what did you like best about the evening? Any tips on entertaining a bunch of four-year-olds?

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On Happiness & Being Busy

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What Does It Mean to Be Human?