Have a slight aching. Today is a day full of rain and wild wind; the weekend seems to be going too fast, yet the time, the time is going too slow; how can this be? I like to think of this time as my penance for being happy; yet I know I only think of it this way because I want things to have balance and for there to be some kind of perverse, but forgiving, justice in the world. Still it is comfort enough, on a cold day, to look outside at the brown leaves crumbling from the tree, to shiver and sink deeper into the duvet, to ponder not getting up at all, this day—and then to bring one’s mind back to the great happiness harbored in one’s heart. It thaws the body out, a bit.

It is always on days like this that you run out of milk. The day when the only thing you can do, if you’ve got any sense, is stay inside close to the heater and listen to jazz (cheery jazz—of the 1930s big band variety, primarily, though Brett Dennen does me well too, if I feel like having a voice in the house.) with cup after cup of tea.

Thesis presentation next week. I’ve completely neglected my thesis, to be honest. Now I feel the weight of it bearing down on my shoulders—I spent all summer using it as an excuse to do nothing else, but read and write and be merry in the evenings, but my accomplishments to date seem meager compared with what I still have left to do. I MUST get something done today. On that note, (a spark of inspiration??) I shall away to try to remember what it was I meant to explore in the first place, and then, with any luck, get things done.