Lying in bed, still in pyjamas having had coffee and pikelets, in the middle of the day. Don’t have to go to work until the evening, but interviewing for a duty manager position beforehand. A cool breeze blows down from the louvers in the skylight, and the sound of rain gently falling and traffic passing in the wet. A sense of lazy anticipation and procrastinatory intention. Catching up on reading, watching, listening. St Vincent and Beyoncé meet and rub shoulders. Fair Paris is burning and I can see your halo. Worries fleetingly come and go. If I wear my shirt walking in the rain maybe the creases will come out. Joseph smiles benignly down. A glimpse of a magical land where anything could happen at any moment.
The definition of . . . bliss?