Cool weather, nice.

It will only last today, but the weather cooled off. Oh, heavenly day. I actually put a sweater on. I baked! I cooked dinner! I even took a long hot shower. Clearly, the year spent in Iceland has skewed my idea of what the weather is supposed to be like. I can’t shake the feeling that it’s back to “normal” today, even though this is freakishly cool for August.

It was gray and overcast and cool…that’s just like Iceland and Portland, so that’s what normal is, right?

At one point today, Rob said, “You look very nice.” I must have looked confused–I was wearing ratty work clothes–because he leaned back to look at me with more care. “I guess it’s because you aren’t sweating and your hair isn’t matted down.”

Nice. That’s what nice means. Not sweaty. No mats.

Why can’t the weather be like this all the time, so I can look nice?

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