It’s a day, like many others in my life, nothing special and nothing goes wrong. Generally I like routine, like my life to have an even tenor. I can get along just fine without drama, excitement and anticipation. Sameness and normality could equal security. It all depends on how you look at it. However, for a brief moment, I shudder at the thought that many days of my life have passed in this blurred sameness, and probably for the rest of my life it would continue this way. Perhaps I should keep a record of this specific day, then one day when I looked back, and I would not stare into complete nothingness.

6:30: Wake up, Freshen up and Make soy milk.

7:10 am to 7:30 am: Pilates twenty minutes, finally I found a workout I might keep at with. I love the feel of my muscles burning and relaxing, but I am just not in for hitting the gym. Recently I could feel my muscles rigid as rock thanks to long time with the computer. I really need to bring some springs back to my body. 

7:30 am to 8:00: Take a ride to my office

8:00 am to 12:00: Dealing with emails, reports, and records. It’s the easy period of a month. The demanding of my job is not that great and I even scratch up some time to surf the internet.

12：00 to 13:00: Lunch and Shopping. I bought myself a bamboo tray which I could place on my desk, so I can take sometime to stand instead of sitting all along in front of my laptop.

13:00 to 17:30:  Continue to work, Keep notes of Dream Man, and write another journal for my blog.

18:30—20:00:  Doing facial at beauty saloon. Fighting against the time---a war we are doomed to loose, but we can’t give up that easily, can we? Last night at English Corner, a girl stared at me and exclaimed: You can’t be a mother of a two-year-old! To be honest, I was happy to hear something like that—every woman would. But also I know it’s just the tricks of the night. Under the broad daylight, if she took a close look she would find the lines under my eyes, the pores on my skin, and some grey hair appearing on my head, then she would not be so surprised. And it is even not the worst. The worst is that time not only playing a cruel game on our face, but also leaving marks on our soul. Innocence is an invisible fortress, keeping one safe, and oblivious to some things that are too harsh to contemplate. However, innocence is so helpless in face of the time. Weathered by cruel age, we couldn’t keep our innocence just as we couldn’t keep our young face ---therefore we became cynical, numb, and hardened.

20:00—21:00:  House chore

21:00---22:00: have a chat with my husband. He is going to take over a new department. Naturally he is a bit worried because it’s not his expertise.

22:00---23:00: Indulge myself in series: NCIS. It’s my new favorite. Always fun to see mysterious, matter-of-fact, old tiny Hedy twisting two big, strong, hot guys around her little finger.

23:00  Go to sleep   End of the day, end of the story.