An urge in a party hat

This one showed up wearing a party hat. The offer came through. The results came back clear. The thing you dreaded went fine. And right behind the good news, grinning, comes the urge. It's harder to spot because it doesn't look like trouble.

It used to show up on the bad days too. Same urge, same promise, happy or wrecked. It never cared what you felt. Every good day, the cigarette tagged along and squeezed into the photo. So it gets the same deal the ugly urges get. No special pass for arriving in a good mood.

Mark this moment for real. Call the person who'd be proudest of you. Call, don't text. Let them yell. Let them ask a hundred questions. By the time they're done, the urge has usually passed on its own. Good news was made to be spent on people.

Give God the first thanks, because He handed you this. Thank You. I'll hold this one with open hands. You used to mark days like this with your hands full. Today they're holding a phone with somebody's happy voice in it. That kind of celebration doesn't wear off in an hour. The urge crashed your party. Nobody handed it the mic.