A good day.
Re-reading my journal, it looks as if all I ever have are bad days, as if my life is one bitter slog to the end. So to change that narrative, I thought I’d write about yesterday, which I would classify as a good day.
I woke up at 7am. I woke up and knew it was going to be a good day. There were no roiling thoughts, no anxiousness. Just peace. Plus, the sun was shining. How can you have a bad day with sunshine?
It was still early so I had breakfast at home. I remember thinking how much it felt like a weekend, having time to have toast in the morning.
I left the house around 8 and had no need to run after trains or buses. And despite taking my time, I was still early to work.
I had a productive morning where I finished admin I had been putting off for months. Suddenly, it was done, and it was time for lunch.
I rounded up the gang and we went to the food market before finding a booth to eat in. The conversation at lunch was particularly top-notch. Despite my beef with certain colleagues, yesterday, things didn’t seem that bad, and I don’t think I even thought about quitting once.
The rest of the day passed by unassumingly. Meetings were humdrum. I didn’t see any of my least favourite people. I had dinner plans so I lingered at the office after most people had gone home and ended up distracting S who was trying to finish something. But it was a conversation I really appreciated, and it’s always interesting to discover a new dimension to someone you thought you had figured out.
Went to dinner with J, and being a Monday, I resolved to not drink more than a glass, but that went out the window as soon as we were together. So much fun! We mooched around in the way that we usually do, went to random places, had random conversations with cute strangers, one of them I’m hoping will call.
Got home, washed makeup off, had a long hot shower, changed into clean pyjamas, and was in bed by 11pm. A good day.