27 august 2025
Today I spent about four hours peeling garlic cloves on a whim. I'm little afraid that I might never be able to get the smell of garlic out of my hands, but at the very least, I am well prepared to deal with any unexpected vampiric encounters, haha.
I also spent about a hour in bed just resting, which was really quite lovely- cozied up beneath the blankets, laying down, and just consciously soaking in the moment, the soft sensations of blankets and pillows and bedsheets, cozied up to restore up some mana, due to unexpectedly using past my assortment of spell slots, as my writing partner put it.
I spent a good chunk of time writing in my journal today, and I'll probably end up filling out my diary before the end of August. Maybe it's not such a bad thing to bring in a slightly lived in diary to campus- I'm already tired, but looking forward to it all. I've missed the structure of academia. And I'll be excited to be able to cozy up in a quiet corner on campus away from all of the big city hustle and bustle late at night, to sit, slow down, and watch the world spin past me.
My birthday is coming up, and I'm excited. I always love my birthdays. They are, after all- a celebration of the fact that out of all of the impossible circumstances and coincidences of fate that coincided into your existence: that you made it, against all odds: a riotous celebration of the joy that is your existence, in the here and now, as you are, and as you will be. Another whole year. Another spin around the planet. Isn't that marvellous? Isn't that a miracle? What a gift, life is. The endurance to persist, the grace to roll with the punches: to live, is to leave doors open, to read more of the story unwinding up ahead of yourself: and your birthday is a happy little day all about you, and no other. An early happy birthday to you, future me. I hope you have a good cake and a quiet moment to yourself during it.