Unlike the previous (and foiled) attempt at being productive outside, today’s foray into the outside world proved to be a success. I got to do almost everything I planned to, and in the order that I intended. The groceries were attended to, bread had been bought from the bakery, the market had been perused for tofu and other necessities, the usual park table was sat on and served as the birthplace of a few poems. It’s been a while since I last went out to the town to get supplies for myself; the errand was a refreshing break, which was probably just what I needed. I felt a little more than okay the whole day, and I even felt less hate for rude pedestrians than usual. Even the universe seems to approve of my initiative, as not a single drop of rain touched my skin when the hardest rain we’ve had in weeks fell.
My favourite part of the day was my trip to the park. I sat on the stone seats with a bottle of water and faced literature while nibbling on cream puffs, cinnamon twists, and milk biscuits. The sun shone bright through the trees, but clouds crawled over it from time to time and gave the afternoon a cozy feel. It was so serene–even as Foo Fighters blared through my earphones–and it made me think of things I don’t usually think about. I took a photo to remember the feeling by. And yes, that there is my troll handwriting. Beneath my journal is a chapter from Jonathan Culler’s Literary Theory: A Very Short Introduction.
This day had definitely been a win–one of the few genuine ones.