I am exuberant tonight.

I spent the morning and afternoon wandering around Eastern Market for the first time.

I discovered what may possibly be The Bookstore To End All Bookstores.



I bought a small, puffy-leaved succulent plant that I promptly named Pugsley.  There was really no other option.



A book I had put on hold at the library came in, and I read all 300 pages in one sitting, with the first strawberries of the year for sustenance.

I started to hear fireworks echo up from the waterfront, where they were being shot up in honor of the Cherry Blossom Festival.  I bolted out the front door, hoping to see them.  No luck, but I got some funny looks from the neighbors.  (Hey, guys.  Nice weather, isn’t it?)

Now I’m attempting to calculate a year’s worth of reading.  Without a graphing calculator it’s decidedly difficult.  I keep having to stop and frustratedly check myself, as if I’m a sixth grader taking a math test.

But all of these things (walking outside, exploring new places, drooling in bookstores, naming plants, reading until I’m half melting into my bed, nervously attempting basic math) make me feel much like myself.

And kind of exuberant, you know?

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