competition
It was foggy when I left the house this morning. Everything was so gray and soft and quiet. Even after being passed by a few other cars, I still felt like the only person in the world. By the time I got to work I wasn't sleepy anymore and the sun was out. Twelve hours later it's back. I love it. Chico gets foggy so rarely.
The house is really starting to feel like home. I've been filling it up with plants and art and sea glass and little colored stones. Our guest room is kitted out with a display of my instruments and sheet music. Our combined collection of books has filled four bookcases. I put vanilla candles on my nightstand and now my side of the bed smells like cupcakes. Mail comes with my name on it. Even Hachi is happier than I've ever seen her, and it's adorable. She adores Justin, follows him around and purrs and constantly tries to get in his lap. She was never an affectionate cat before we moved up here so it's very cute to see.
Despite how objectively good things are going lately I've been struggling with a recurring feeling of despondency and self-doubt. Normally I deal with this by avoiding any kind of personal record-keeping, but maybe that's exactly the wrong way to react. Also, my mother has now started a blog, and if even she can take the time to dump words into the internet, surely I should too.
The house is really starting to feel like home. I've been filling it up with plants and art and sea glass and little colored stones. Our guest room is kitted out with a display of my instruments and sheet music. Our combined collection of books has filled four bookcases. I put vanilla candles on my nightstand and now my side of the bed smells like cupcakes. Mail comes with my name on it. Even Hachi is happier than I've ever seen her, and it's adorable. She adores Justin, follows him around and purrs and constantly tries to get in his lap. She was never an affectionate cat before we moved up here so it's very cute to see.
Despite how objectively good things are going lately I've been struggling with a recurring feeling of despondency and self-doubt. Normally I deal with this by avoiding any kind of personal record-keeping, but maybe that's exactly the wrong way to react. Also, my mother has now started a blog, and if even she can take the time to dump words into the internet, surely I should too.