Man, I'm so tempted to go bake another ginger cake tonight. Sweet, sticky cake with that nice little fiery hit in it.
Realistically, though? Laundry and ironing. Fuck ironing, and jobs which require clothes to have been ironed. Looking conventionally presentable takes more effort than doing my actual job.
Also: one of the nice men at the monthly social things I go to gave me speakers. I can hear music properly again, with individually adjustable bass and treble and volume. I've missed being able to really really hear what I'm listening to. I was starting to forget about all the layers of sound that I used to love, and now I have them back.
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The noblest sentiment I have encountered and the most passionate political statement to stir my heart both belong to a fictional character. Why do we have no politicians as pure in their intent and determinedly joyous in their outlook as Arkady Bogdanov of Red Mars?
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