Frankly, what complaint can I have? The money is flowing in—not too much, not enough for me to live in a mansion or fly in first class, but not too little either. The coffee never ends; there always is enough to make a cup. The year flows towards its end, and there have been some nitpicks, some deliberations, but all of that withers, facing all the joy. This life has turned out to be a decent one, and the building blocks suggest things will only get better from here on out. I do not mean there will be no troubles. No, I expect trouble to take its fair share, cut its fine slice, but what use are the good times if not to be remembered in times of trouble? And of them, I have plenty. I am confident things will be fine; if not at first, then eventually.
The evenings are nippy now, and the year has begun descending into its last stretch, its tail end which has, perhaps, given rise to this introspective mood. Even with the sun shining outside, you can still tell it is October. There is but awe in my heart at everything. Today, I seem to have begun the day with pumpkin spice appreciation—spicy enough to cut, sweet enough to revel in it, strong enough to be remembered. Days like this will serve as anchors if the tides of time ever begin to shake my ground. Until then, I must always remember to take a moment and smile. If someone had asked me two years ago about happiness, I would have told them I could not remember the last time I felt it. To be clear, it would have been absurd but also correct, not because I had never felt it, but because I never took a moment to take stock of it. We must always look at a moment of joy or even one of calm contentment. We must make a habit of dissociating ourselves from it so as to remember it like we remember some scene from a film—we know who sat where, who said what, and, most important of all, precisely how it felt.
I will remember this moment, and many others like it, in all their regularity. The weather will get colder soon. It is my advice you take stock, too.