merrily, merrily

Some days I head out to town and then just forget what day it is and what I'm supposed to do. I hang around the library reading or sit in a café wondering about all the people around me. I'm either going prematurely senile or just being distracted by life.

I see it as a good sign. Being able to drift like that means I'm not too hopelessly anchored to time and space and expectations.

First day of winter. Snow on the ground and the air is bright and chilly. I had my breakfast on the balcony, wrapped in blankets and reading Harry Potter.