Today is a flower buying day.

I feel like every second person I've seen today has been carrying flowers.

The weather is warm. It's good. Still cloudy, but just that little bit warmer. Cardigan weather. A week ago it was hats and gloves and scarves and heater-blasting. Of course, the nice weather will probably not last, it's probably just teasing us, and soon we'll be back into full-blown winter.

But in the meantime, I am going to buy flowers.

And maybe have some kind of picnic.

I am feeling surprisingly un-hungover now, considering how horrendously ill I felt this morning.

A cocktail or two last night with my lady-love Samantha turned into a bottle of wine or (more like) two (each). We sat in the rooftop garden at my work after I finished, with the pretty fairy-lights and city view. It was lovely. Then we went home, and Richard and Sim had built an epic fort in the loungeroom. There were tent poles involved. It was an amazing fort. More wine ensued, and unfortunately I went straight from feeling sober to oh-god-I'm-going-to-fall-over drunk, at which point I went to bed, at 2 a.m., with work this morning at 9. When I woke up I thought I might vom. Death death death hangover. But I had a springroll for breakfast, a bitchload of water, then cheesey bacony rolls for lunch, and copious amounts of diet-coke, and now, I feel much better.

Chilling at work, drinking diet-coke, listening to Blur, thinking about flowers, going home in an hour or so, to a lovely warm afternoon (the sun is starting to come out now) at home with my lover. I couldn't be happier.

I actually feel so cheerful now, that I think I'll go and do some work. Wewww.

I'm back.

Let's see how long this lasts.

Usually, when picking up an old journal or blog or whatever, I rip out (or delete) everything I've written before. Then in a few years' time, I wonder what happened to it and wish I could read it again. Usually I do it because I've written about sad things, things which still sting. I'm slowly reading back over everything here. And some of it is sad, but a lot of it makes me really happy.

My priorities haven't changed that much. I still value the same things. Like my beautiful friends, my lover, my family, as well as things like kittens, and incense, and having a Moroccan-love-nest themed bedroom, and wanting to grow sunflowers.

I feel like I'm getting happier all the time. And for a while, I thought that optimism, the kind of whole-world-everything-is-brilliant-always optimism which I had for so long, was bullshit. But it's not. It's not absolute. But nothing is. Bad things happen, usually to good people, but that doesn't mean it's not going to be okay, or that the world isn't a beautiful place. I've realised this, over the last few years, and maybe everyone else already knew it, but it feels important.

I think a lot about children. About what I would do differently to my parents, and I constantly realise how many things don't make that list. I look at my sister, and I feel myself wanting to tell her things my mum told me, which I resented at the time. Things I know I would tell my daughter. I've realised that I am more like my mother than I could have ever imagined. And I'm more okay with it than I ever thought I would be.

Nothing stresses me anymore. I have an unerring faith that things will work themselves out. And that doesn't mean I don't care. I care very much. And it doesn't mean that I'm lazy (though I guess I am), and it doesn't mean I don't try. I just don't sweat the small stuff. I find the positive. When I have an awful day at work, by the time I get home I'm in a great mood, because I'm so excited to see everyone.

Maybe it's just that things are going pretty well for me. And even a couple of months ago, when technically things weren't so good, when I was jobless and crazy broke, I was still having fun. But I don't know. I like to think I'm just a happy kind of person.

So, this is kind of like the intro. Setting the scene. Things are going pretty well, I'm doing a lot of musing, usually in the margins of books, so I think I need to pull all that together and cement it, into some solid form.

So many things inspire me at the moment that I don't know where to start. So this is the start. And I'll be back, soon.