Read a book, go for a run, write, reflect. That has been basically all I’ve done for the past few weeks, if not months at this point. It’s genuinely hard to remember with everything that has happened, what with me jumping between four friends’ places and lugging my bare minimum with me each time (which somehow now includes a washing machine, but that seems essential in my late 30s, if I allow myself a moment to horrify my 22 year old self back in university), and the routine has become fixed in a way that I’ve begun to crave it....