I've really come to realize something these last few weeks, and I'd like to share it with you. It's a little crazy and maybe too controversial, but I feel I have to say it:
I love weekends.
So glad I got that off my chest. So brave.
|We imagined this building was Hogwarts, mostly.|
Our lunch was somewhat lackluster so much so that I DIDN'T EVEN INSTAGRAM IT but the afternoon was lovely, just the same. I hate the idea of jinxing stuff but I gotta say, I'm pretty happy with life right now. I'm a little bit sentimental these days because we're coming up on Labour Day, which, as I'm sure I've mentioned at some point before, is my New Years. I continually divide my year into "school year" and "summer" and it certainly doesn't help that Labour Day weekend is also our 1-year anniversary of moving into the house. Basically, I'm in full reflection-mode, thinking about how much has changed since this time last year. Add to that the fact that it's the time of year when a good percentage of my coworkers and friends are moving on to other positions, or, in some cases, other countries, and I'm basically permanently trapped in a glass case of emotion most days. But between the goodbye parties and the farewell cupcakes, I have birthday gatherings, short getaways planned, and some great friends coming into town, which delights me in a way you might have thought impossible. And in between there are these moments of quiet reflection, making me feel lucky for this little life I've carved out.
Oh, also we saw this on our walk:
I told TB we should leave a "deposit" in it and then scribble on the note "No it doesn't. Wouldn't flush."
We are in our 30s.