Work, like love, is a battlefield today, so no time for any real posts.
I would like to point out that my new bed is awesome and I hate to leave it. I feel like a rat that's moved from a dumpster to a bakery.
I've been thinking about things which I find inexplicably soothing. Here's a couple:
When a genial, articulate person explains a nonthreating topic (how wines are made, a history of the detective novel, how cellos work) in well-informed detail. Unless I'll be tested on it.
Anytime someone pages through a book. When I watch a movie and there's a scene where someone spends twenty seconds paging through a book, I always want to rewind and watch it again. It's not just because I'm a bibliophile; the sound of turning pages, the sense of information being evaluated, and the security of knowing that whomever's looking at the book isn't evaluating ME all come into play here.