Category: peaceful day

The sky was grey and heavy from morning, with a little rain here and there.
My hair was doing its thing, so I just tied it up and headed out.

Only Thursday. Still two whole days to go.

Walking along with my eyes kind of cast downward, I spotted something — small, round, and fluffy.
I somehow hoped it would still be round on my way home, and made my way to work.

On the way back, it was still there. Still perfectly round.
Tougher than it looks.

I kind of hope it’ll still be round tomorrow.

Still round on Friday.

My cat walks across my stomach on purpose.

Stick a foot out of the blanket, and she attacks my toes and runs away.

Whenever I stand in front of the fridge, she rubs against my legs, so I give her some bonito flakes.

She sniffs them and leaves.

When I open a fresh pack, she comes back and starts rubbing against me again.

I eat the old bonito flakes in my miso soup.

It was another peaceful day.

My father sometimes asks me what English words mean.

One Saturday afternoon, I went back to my parents’ house, and once again he asked me something.

“Misato, what does ‘Papa out ai’ mean?”

So I answered:

“It means Dad is bad with AI.”

He looked unconvinced and went back to his room.

So I asked ChatGPT instead.

“Dad is panicking about AI.”

Same level.

A little later, music started playing from my father’s room.

“Papa, où t’es ?”

I don’t understand the lyrics.

But I felt certain it probably didn’t mean “Dad is bad with AI” or “Dad is panicking about AI.”

It was another peaceful day.

I’m happy to live in a world with chopstick rests.

A white polar bear looks right on a pale blue skateboard.
A pink bird belongs on the red one.

But then another question came up.

What color works best with grilled horse mackerel?

The pale blue one somehow makes it look less appetizing.
The red one is not bad, but still feels wrong.

So I tried yellow.

Perfect.

Today, I learned that grilled horse mackerel looks best with a yellow skateboard-shaped chopstick rest.

It was a peaceful day.

Chopstick rests are not really necessary.
Nothing bad happens without them.

And yet, today again, I find myself wondering which color of chopsticks would look best with a wasabi-shaped chopstick rest.

On busy days, I barely have the energy to stand in the kitchen.
I eat store-bought side dishes and a sliced tomato in a hurry.

When I have more time, I spend minutes deciding whether white, black, or blue plates would fit better.

Sometimes I seriously think about the difference between how proteins and carbohydrates behave on a cast iron pan.

Pointless, maybe. But it works for me.