Looking at my posting calendar I see a pattern: I like to write on mondays. And today is no different. I didn’t even realize I was once again affirming the habbit until the mouse was inches away from New Post. What is it about this day of the week that pulls me towards here? Maybe one of these days, a Monday probably, I will find the answer.

But the reason I’m here wasn’t because it’s monday (coincidental? maybe). I came back from school around half past 3. The weather has gotten increasingly cold; I thought it’d never drop to the low 40’s in London. Wishful thinking, I know. In any case, the warmth in my room was welcoming (unlike the chill I received last night when I came back and realized I had left the windows open and the heat was turned off). So I sat here in front of my computer, enjoying the return of internet (you have no idea how much I abhor the internet system here), while I leisurely read through NYTimes articles (topics ranged from lawyering abroad to holocaust to sex) and sipping honey water. After having sufficiently devoured through all the interesting but not world-politics-related content of NYT, I swithed to the world of my friends’ blogs and faithfully read every updates and entries, and left comments when I felt compelled to say something. 

All the while, I’m contemplating a series of problems in my life and possible solutions, decisions made and to be made, people I care and miss, friends I’m leaving and returning to, love, life, career, future, past, present, innocence, sophistication, growing up, and all the things a typical 20-year-old would think about on a Monday afternoon I suppose.

And now I shall go nap.

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