Today has been a good day. The sort of good day that was good simply because it was completely run-of-the-mill, unexciting, lacking in events to speak of, but enjoyable all the same. And an enjoyable sort of normal is something quite special.
Yesterday was not a good day. Plagued throughout the day by one off-hand comment thrown rudely at me by someone who used to mean more to me than most, I gave in to pent up anger and upset with Daniel that evening, when I caved, producing those wierd sobs that appear from nowhere, shake your whole body and leave you placid and fresh. Chocolate, tea and a University Challenge re-run shook off the feeling completely, and I woke early this morning practically singing with joy.
Today I feel thankful for everything. For my friends, few in number but plentiful in love and friendship. For the other postgraduates in the study area who smile when we catch eyes across the desks. For the family weekend ahead, and the prospect of homely smells, my Mum's hugs and plenty of pudding for the eating. For the sort of yoga that makes you sweat and groan before leaving you with a sense of inner strength and calm, wishing you could stay in Child's Pose forever. For my body, which is now able to reach some rather tricky yoga poses that I never thought I'd manage, and for looking great when I see it in the mirror. For cereal, for its suitability at any time of the day, for giving milk a cheeky hint of honey, and for its general crunchy, oaty goodness. And finally, for the man I love, who I feel thankful for at every instance, but especially when I see he still loves me after I've been wailing like a loon, and when he kisses me even though my face is covered in snot.
I think this enjoyable sort of normal might be my favourite sort of existence.