The house has its own faint indoor breeze. In my long-sleeved sweater I hunch over a small bowl of steaming microwaved noodles.

Today's work proper is done, but there is personal work to take care of, to spend the rest of the evening on. Or not - I could instead play games or other form of recreation. But for the past week I've been in a pragmatic frame of mind, and so I will work on some constructive activity.

Days are a dime a dozen; they pop up and wither and pop up again like dandelions. I keep needing to remind myself of the mission statement I drew up for my life, to avoid getting swept away by the busyness and hustle. Engineering beautiful software. Cherishing my family. Random acts of heroic kindness. Being conscious of my human journey.

I am the middle of my human journey, jostled by some small stones and breaks in the payment, pulled ever faster forward by some animalistic force, to who knows where.