Life is good. Better than the alternative, first of all, which the sudden death of a longtime colleague reminds me. His mass is this afternoon. Normally he would be a massive pain in the ass on a Wednesday (meetings all happen on Wednesday), but today he gets to cancel them all like a fist slamming down on all our little intentions. RIP. And life is also good because I like it that way. So I build it to be. In every particular from comfy blankets where you want them to always butter in the fridge to work projects more numerous and interesting to ever run out of them either, all of it, everything I can control is well cared for. For YEARS now, there is only one thing missing. I am so fucking sick of that one thing. Being wrong with me.






Cleopatra - Lumineers