I don't blog seriously. Sometimes I just open notes on my phone and type a couple of lines. Sometimes - about laws and people. Sometimes - about coffee, which suddenly seems special. And most often - about pauses.

For example, yesterday: I held three consultations, went up the stairs twice because the elevator was stuck, and during the break I bought myself the sweetest tangerine. And still - it was a good day. Not because I had time. But because I suddenly noticed: the wind was playing with my hair, as if in a movie. And I was in the lead role.

Sometimes it seems to me that my whole life is like a TV series without a script. The surprise is not the meeting, but the silence between tasks. Surprise is a hot bath on Monday. A small victory is when I find an old book and reread a dialogue that gave me goosebumps as a child.

I don't always need action. Sometimes I just want to sit in the kitchen, listen to a playlist without words, and take notes about how much "almost nothing" means.

Even if no one reads it. I read. And sometimes I come back to myself.