Good Afternoon.

Today is the warmest it's been in weeks. It's practically spring out there, the sun is so blinding. I am wearing flip flops and not frozen to death.

This is my perfect weather. My perfect day. I woke up with company. A hug and a kiss, a short and sleepy conversation. I had a cup of tea and did some writing and reading. The sun is blazing and beautiful, but the air is clean and crisp and fresh. I walked to the bank and back and felt the snap of the air on my bare legs and it made me walk that much faster. I was awake. I am awake. This is what makes me feel happy to be alive. It is perfection.

I feel good. I feel goooooood.

I have class in an hour and a half, and I've been invited for tea, which I'd much rather do. But instead, I sit here in a surf skirt and my bra, type out a little note to self while my cats curl up in fur on the bed.

(Norbert peed on Matt's girlfriend's things. I think Bert's got a bone to pick or something, a chip? His litterbox is clean, he has no reason other than vendetta for something. I feel bad, I don't know what to do or how to punish them.)

I'm not even poetic today. There are so many things that I find beautiful and I can't find the words or the flow other than to say, "Wow, that's amazing." But maybe that's enough?