Saturday night, April 17

The most comfortable that I think I've ever been was in December, last year.
When I visited Oregon we stayed in my grandparent's apartment in Tigard,
just outside of Portland. From that base, we'd go out and see all of
Oregon's beautiful forests and salty coast, sometimes with family and
sometimes just alone. One of the days we were there (we stayed for a week,)
we had breakfast at 9, then sat around the table for a long time. The tea
and bread kept coming. Some of the delicious gernman breakfast still sat out
as the conversation stretched and yawned. We soon ate lunch, without habing
moved. I can't remember exactly what we ate, but it was decidedly german.
Contentedly, I wandered back to the room around three or four and napped
until dinner.

Then I crept back to the room and entrenched myself in those
thick, cold sheets. Unable to sleep (owing to my nap) I played かたわ少女
emi's route. I tossed myself gently over the bed, searching for the most
comfortable place on the downy pillows as I play. The blue, thick-threaded
curtains kept the streetlight out of the room, but did npt keep Oregon's
cold winter air away. However, I stayed warm in that little universe, the
queen-sized bed. I fell asleep, smiling, an hour and a half later. It
strikes me now that that day, the day of doing nothing particularly special,
was my Nirvana.