I haven't felt so anchored in a place or time as I have for the last month. I've really enjoyed every moment of my routine; the stealthy sunrises sneaking across my floor, the repeated breakfast of European coffee and Japanese cartoons. A few video games, a few chapters from a book, writing a sketch or drawing one. I watch people biking past the park across the street and just feel still. I've had fewer days off than ever before, and I love it. I've found peace in working. And it's perfect timing. I've got to start turning the page and outlining the next plot twist to this unfolding narrative. I'm not the protaganist; I'm a side character in someone else's book, but still -- I'm helping write it. I think.