The 27th day of one hundred days of happiness.

I really like on the odd day I don't cycle to work, - (getting old and weary) - the emptiness of the street as if I'm the only person in the world. As I turn each corner on the way to the tube, gradually more people appear until after seven or so minutes I'm swept up in the wave of urgent bodies descending into the tube.

And in the evening we wallowed in The Theory of Everything's optimism and jest for living.