I am in love.
It came on me, suddenly, without warning, on a London day like any other.
I woke up at 9 a.m. to the warm sound of my various flat mates laughing, soft voices and heavy accents wafting to me from the kitchen with the clank of spoons in cereal bowls. I cannot remember a time before arriving in London when this phenomenon — waking up with a smile — occurred. Similarly, as I look in the mirror, my reflection is strange to me. I do not recognize my face without bags underneath my eyes.
At 1:30 p.m. I threw open my curtains to another sunny day. It was an honest warm day, rather than one of those — brilliantly sunny, but a chill forty degrees — that catch newcomers to London unawares.