There seems to be a delicate (and perhaps deliberate) balance between writing about life and living life. My current equilibrium has tipped far to the "living" side, hence my dearth of reflective musings. Existence seems inconceivably full right now, and often as I mull over the day before I fall asleep, it seems like centuries have elapsed since the prior evening. I did have one moment this morning, after being insistently woken up by my bed companion around 2 am (sometimes I feel like a mother in this regard): how miraculous it is to be alive! That was my simple thought, but the profound sense of wonderment and awe that accompanied it is what made it a rare moment.
It should also be reported that I had my first hysterical laughing spell yesterday at work (the kind where I cannot control myself, end up weeping, hyperventilating, etc. All very embarrassing and slightly raucous symptoms). The cause was some mystical combination of my super-slow but patient laptop, which is currently being resuscitated, a new infrared radiant heater, which is lovingly roasting my calves, and my designated office plant, which has been delegated to its own spacious bookcase shelf for my continual viewing. Or perhaps it was some strange hypnosis induced by the tea one of my coworkers brought in that morning. Whatever the case, it felt good to giggle.