It’s the last day of a strange, long year. I’m together with H now, having cycled through a few since I last wrote. (Does that sound brusque? I don’t mean for it to. You know I love them all.) Life is what it is, isn’t it?
Meanwhile, I worry about my parents who are getting older; I’m playing a lot of mahjong, and I’m still cycling. I still like the feel of the wind against my face, especially more so now that cycling is the time you can go without a mask.
I think I’m less in touch with my emotions, but gosh, I still get crushes as a bloody 43 year old. What the f.
On this last day of the year, am going to go for a walk on the green corridor with my colleagues, play (more) mahjong, and chill and sleep early.
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