Quotidian Notes

It has been a three-coffee day, fifteen hours of slow burn followed by sugar-laden dessert indulgence and the unashamed violation of my no-dairy policy, observed without exception for nearly a week. Something about nursing an emotional funk of queenly proportions and ambiguous origin all morning and afternoon rather promises an awkward evening, and the lesson has been learned: we are not doing that again, not if we can help it.

Fortunately, funk did not mean the absence of productivity. I had enough energy to finish every task on my to-do list, including making dinner, biking seven and a half miles to the store to pick up a baking ingredient and a personal stash of coveted almond milk, and attending to kanji. Fortunately, too, there were people available to play several rounds of Tatsunoko vs Capcom, and cinnamon and chai on the spice cabinet shelf for making a steaming chai latte, dairy and sweetener-free. I ate my cold dinner of brussel sprouts, broccoli florets, and chopped roasted almonds on the front porch, chewing slowly, and savoured both the flavour of the food and the coolness of the breeze in my hair. Funny how on paper the dull ache of the last fifteen hours seems less.