It’s been cool and sunny outside for the last few days, and my mind is reacting accordingly—I’m absurdly happy and calm. And productive.
We’ve rearranged our apartment for the third time. Each time we do it, the place feels even more cozy, more in line with what we need from our living space. I think it’s pretty perfect now. If I could, I think I’d stay here for years and years. Being here, in our sunny little book cave, induces a pure and dumb kind of happiness. Now if only everything else would find a way to fall into place…
