This morning M. drove me to the Oxford tube stop so I could get to London without feeling dead. As we were driving along the pretty roads of Oxford, I saw two cats in a window, and it looked like it should have been one of those photos you see online, the really amazing ones. It made me very happy.
Then I spent a lot of time stuck in traffic, and later on during the day I realised I am 23 now. which is a very weird age, something in-between. Doesn't really mean much - it's definitely not young anymore, but not quite adult either. It depressed me a bit. The years seem to go quicker as I grow older, and so much is happening, sometimes I feel like my head isn't quite keeping up.
Philosophical thoughts aside, my bed is really calling me. I can hear it, i swear...