Truths of Old

I've just had one of the nearest to perfect days I've ever had. Woke up late, bummed around, did laundry (the usual humdrum Sunday activities) then decided to go for a dance class, on my own. Went for said dance class at Marylebone (brilliant!), and decided it was too sunny a day to waste on household chores, and tubed it to Regent's Park for an organic hot-dog (ginger, spring onion), a coke in a glass bottle, and a general bake in the sun, whilst reading a bit of Harry Potter (the philosopher's stone was a far better book than movie, i've just discovered. And I LIKED the movie!) A couple of hours later and several litres of fluid, I went to church, drowsed, woke up, and went home. Had a long soak in the tub, hand and eyes firmly fixed on Harry Potter (err that sounded decidedly dodgy) for a while, then nuked dinner and decided to write about all of it. I've had a brilliant day. And amazingly, I've done it, all by myself. I didn't need to be alone; I'm just trying to convey that I haven't had such good fun, on my own, in ages. I felt at peace all day. I feel at peace a lot of the time, especially around certain people who seem conducive to it (eg a certain jive-mad friend of mine) but I haven't felt at peace, alone, for years. My thoughts generally gravitate towards my melancholic past, and loop in endless circles of what-ifs and where is she's. Today was different. The what-ifs and where are you's are still there. But they don't seem to matter so much? Perhaps it was the relentless sunshine. Perhaps I'll have a tan tomorrow! :) And perhaps I should go and rescue my laundry, and do some ironing, right this instant.
The only thing that didn't happen this weekend which was on the agenda, was going to the gym. And perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing :)