Today I feel for anyone who doesn't have a garden. I can't imagine self-isolating without any safe outside space.
I get a really weird validation from Jimmy Eat World's Tiny Desk Concert. My face goes super red like Robin Vining's, whenever I even mildly exert myself, and seeing someone on camera have the same thing makes me feel weirdly comfortable. Also their music has a beautiful simplicity, but it's mostly the red-face thing.
Animal Crossing has a feature called the Stalk Market. You buy turnips once a week then hedge your bets on making a return.
I'm really fortunate to be part of a group of people who are pretty much all playing Animal Crossing right now
The world is in a bit of a state at the moment. People are panicking and they're scared. Far be it for me to suggest that poor leadership might be at least partly to blame. I never learn lessons from other people's mistakes so how can I expect the people who run the country to do it?
Just spent an hour and a half doing some maths with Tabitha and I get why people teach. When it works and they're getting it, it's incredibly satisfying. There is an equal and opposite counterpart to that, but let's not talk about that now.
I don't believe in signs from God, but if I did, the entire world going into lockdown a week after I buy a new gym bag would definitely cause me to cancel a membership.
Tabitha has enjoyed Animal Crossing: New Leaf so much, and the New Horizons release coincided so well with her birthday, that this was a no-brainer
It's good having access to an allotment. Plenty of space, barely anyone around and when they are they're far away!
I am so ready for Animal Crossing: New Horizons. I was hoping to have finished Xenoblade Chronicles 2 but, well, that's not going to happen. Damn that game can be a chore, but I'm so invested now.
I keep all the backing cards for my pins. I don't know why; it's not like I ever get them out and study them.
I've been thinking a lot about ghosts since Amelie died. I don't believe in them, or anything supernatural, but I can see why people do. I've never lost anyone close to me like that, and the way habit and memories haunt you is quite real. It definitely feels like something you could call a ghost.
The small, familiar noises, the shadows and shapes at the edge of your peripheral vision, thinking you've seen things you know couldn't be there. The immense comfort of being with them again, however fleeting, and that emptiness when you realise the mistake. Then they're gone again before you even register what was happening. Like waking from a glorious dream to the cruel realisation that none of it was real.
Feeling fresh guilt at wishing it would end because my hopes raising and crashing seems to serve no purpose other than to hurt me. Simultaneously knowing that when I'm done mourning, the ghosts will leave, and that's when she's really gone.