I enjoyed this very silly scene from the movie “Easy A”. It’s about how the main character spends her weekend.
I woke up a few minutes before my alarm clock this morning. Turned it off before I had to hear it, and also because I won’t have to hear it again for DAYS. Lay back for a moment with a contented sigh, enjoying missing the alarm, and realized that in the stillness I could hear our little half-grown kitten just *breathing *in her sleep. She’d fallen asleep in her usual spot at the foot of the bed in that awkward way where she twists around and her front legs stick straight up into the air, and they moved slightly with each little breath she took.
What on earth is in my eye? Darn allergies.
My kids do things that make me happy all the time. My son talks about how he is going to marry me when he grows up, and that’s awesome. I love being loved so much.
Saturday morning, I woke up and saw that it was 6:47. I said, “Oh, shit!” really loudly, thinking that I was going to be late for work. Then I said, “Oh, wait…it’s saturday!” and went back to sleep.
It was fabulous.
Good gracious but there’s an epidemic of cat going on in this thread. Permit me to add to it 
:
I love it when I’m sitting either at the computer or in my chair watching tv when I suddenly have myself a lap-ful of unexpected superKitty.
Maggie settles herself in quickly and zonks right out, purring loud enough to interfer with the tv sound. Turk, on the other hand, has to carefully pick his spot - all 18 pounds of him - and knead me until he’s satisfied his spot will be soft enough to accomodate him. Good times. 
I love when my friends have pets because I’m just at a point in my life when it would be inhumane to adopt a cat or a puppy. I’m rarely home, and when I am, it’s mostly just to sleep and change clothes.
But I gleefully pet their felines and canines when I can.
Nope. She’s a mix - Italian greyhound and probably some mini pinscher or chihuahua. Plus she’s a snuggle bug. When she gets really happy as you pet and snuggle her, she makes this little grunting sound. It makes my heart happy.
My husband just walking into the room still makes me noticeably happier…then he opens his goddamn mouth…but for that split second before he ruined it…
Mostly what makes me happy every day, every day, every day, is my sons showing me their latest accomplishment; a new way of drawing something, a Lego ship, a good grade, a somewhat cleaner bedroom. It’s the fact that they still want my approval, and also, that they are learning and growing, and that is a wonderful thing to me, it is what makes me happy in life. I know that there will come a day when they will hardly ever tell me when they’ve done something that they’re proud of. THAT makes me sad. But it’s not today.
Good public transit makes me unreasonably happy. When I get on a clean, prompt, safe and well-run train or streetcar (even bus, sometimes), I feel great. Often I feel great just by entering a metro station.
Reading about all of the silly little things that bring others joy. 
Just about everything my two-year-old hound mix, Bailey, does. She is such a good dog, and she’s clearly just as crazy about me as I am about her (which is deeply, deeply gratifying). I would never have chosen to be single with a dog – I adopted her while living with my ex and his Beagle – but I cannot imagine my life without her. I often sing “You Are My Sunshine” to her, and I usually choke up when I get to “you’ll never know, dog, how much I love you…”
The theme music to the FX show Terriers.
The opening bars of Peter Gabriel’s Solsbury Hill.
When I’m about to run out of something and I’m pretty sure I haven’t bought more yet, but then I look in the closet/cupboard and there’s more!
Babies. I do not want to ever be a parent myself, but unlike many childless-by-choice women I love babies and little kids and just the sight of a stranger’s small child can make me smile. If the world were a different place I’d constantly be asking people if I could hold their baby for a little while. (This phenomenon dissipates as the child ages: strange kids above the age of 6 or so don’t make me particularly happy. ;))
I love coming home on the every-other Tuesday when my cleaning lady has just finished. Everything is clean and put away, there’s new sheets on the bed, and the house has that faint smell of bleech. Making dinner in a kitchen I didn’t have to clean is great.
When I just happen to get my electric guitar tone to the sweet spot or my acoustic guitar sounds better due to the weather.
When its really cold outside and I take my dog out and she does the “poop walk” right away. The poop walk is her ritual where she walks around in a tightening circle till she pivots and poops.
A good cup of coffee.
My dogs. Everything about my dogs. But some of my favorite things about them:
Ginger’s floppy ears and how sometimes one will get turned inside out and then slooooooowly flip back.
Driving in the Jeep with them because there’s a good chance that Holly won’t puke. Plus, looking in the rearview mirror and seeing Ginger’s beadly little eyes and floppy goblin ears and knowing that she totally loves sitting in the middle of the back seat so she can see out all the windows.
Puppy pucks. Ya know, when they curl up into a really tight circle of cuteness.
Waking up with a 30 pound dog draped up my chest and licking my chin. How do they get like that without waking me up?
Kissing their fuzzy heads as I hook up their leashes.
The way Holly arches her back and wiggles her butt.
The way their tails start wagging wicked fast just from the sound of my voice.
When Ginger sits in front of the fire and looks sad.
There are non-doggie things too…
The smell of fresh bread and knowing that I made it.
Getting an A and knowing that I really earned it.
Getting an A- or a B+ and not having a panic attack because it wasn’t an A.
My fireplace, even when there’s no fire. It’s a huge wall of stone and it’s so pretty.
My living room. I can stare at the walls and ceiling for hours. The woodwork is gorgeous.
Listening to the Tiffany Aching books on audiobook because the Feegles are just so darn funny.
Every night when my oldest sister and I sign off IM, we truthfully say, “I love you Lots!”, even though she was my worst enemy for the first 17 years of my life.
Reading threads like this and realizing that even with the world going to hell, we are still capable of finding joy in such little things.
Misnomer, I’m really glad that someone besides me sings to their dog, with appropriately altered lyrics! Our latest ditty goes something like this:
Nutterdog
Mamma loves youuu
Oh that Nuttery girl
Nutters, Nutters, Nutters, nut*
*Sung to the tune of Summer Nights from Grease…what?
My kitties make my day shine. The youngest never seems to have a moment of gloom and is always successful at making me smile.
Green, growing lush plants. Go Mother Nature!
Sunsets! People laugh when I turn to the sun and say “Bye Mr. Sun; thanks for the nice day!” but I mean it. I have SAD and an indoor job. Even 10 minutes in a sunny spot can cheer me right up.
Scented soaps.
Silly songs or old songs that I recognize perk me up and make me sing along. A human audience might not be appreciative, but my cats like it.
I sing “Baby Beluga” to my dog all the time, except I change it to, “And a little black dog on the go!”
When my almost-three year old wants to play with his baby brother. Especially when I’m not right there, and I overhear him talking to the baby, and both of them giggling.
The light filling my bedroom on a sunny morning when I haven’t been awake much in the night.
Watching people chow down on things I’ve cooked.
The smell and feel of baby hair against my face, and the way he lights up when he sees me, Mommy-and-goddess, coming, and holds out his arms to be picked up.
That would be a cat.
This isn’t a recurrant thing but it was one of those quiet joys. The playa Burning Man is on is between two mountain ranges, one a distance away to the east and another much closer – and therefore visually higher – to the west. I got up one morning to a perfectly clear day and the light was just touching the tips of the western ridge. I quick climbed to the top of the twenty-foot dome we had in camp to lean against the rail and watch in silence as the light slowly crept down the ridge and across the perfectly flat playa to the north.
That… oh Jesús, I think I got something in my eye. Darn allergies. Yeah.
Polite little kids who adopt me (on the bus, at the train station, waiting for the light to cross), and their parents, who watch without helicoptering and hug without strangling.
My own pillow. No matter how much I enjoyed my vacation, my own pillow and blankie when I get back home. For that matter, my own bathroom after a week or two of using hotel or public facilities.
Something happened just yesterday that is pretty typical of what gives me joy…my friend received the box I sent with gifts for her son and her soon-to-be-born new baby, and sent me a picture of her son all happy with his gift. I love giving gifts. I am a total gift geek and get so, so excited when I’ve gotten something that I think is just perfect for someone. I hate waiting to give gifts and kind of wag around like a puppy while the person opens it.
I just remembered that I ordered something incredibly special for my in-laws for Christmas and now the anticipation is killing me.