It's already February.
Every time I step outside of my warm room,
I think, "Oh really, so it's just cold after all," and sometimes get anxious, wondering if I might be the type of person who gets hysterical and angry.


I was taking a walk in a park in Tokyo recently, and I noticed that there are a lot of dogs wearing clothes in cities.

They're not like normal clothes, they're tight fitting, typical of the city, and make everything look slimmer except for the face and legs, and every time I see those I feel a sense of love for them.
I guess I wear it like yoga wear.
To the dog,
I'm worried because my bone structure is thinner than I thought it would be.


How was everyone this week?

Recently, I went with a friend to a chocolate festival held at a department store.
I bought two or three chocolates and sables from a store that I was interested in, and then we had them at my house.

The global popularity and satisfaction of delicious chocolate in terms of quantity doesn't seem to match up.
There are so many layers of sensations when you put it in your mouth.

I would really like to say that it's "history condensed into one piece" or "the life of a chocolatier packed into it," but it's a bit difficult for my tongue to really sense that.
However, it's not that there is a lot of information, but rather that there are many layers of sensations.

It feels like being at an unfamiliar part-time job and being taught simple tasks by someone who has the same shift as you for the first time.

The premonition of discovering something new amidst my anxiety, the fact that I pretend even simple things are difficult, the feeling that familiar tools feel fluffy when I use them.
It was a delicious experiential experience, with layers of sensations all mixed together.


Sorry, I'm really bad at using analogies. Also, I thought it probably wouldn't get through to them, so I gave up on explaining it halfway through.
By the way, the ratio between price and satisfaction seemed to be pretty even.



So, when it came time to eat dinner I felt like I had been a bit extravagant, so I decided to just eat with what I had at home.
So, lately I've been having a fried egg on bread for breakfast, and that's what I had for dinner.

Then, every morning when I eat it, I think to myself, "In the end, this is what I like, I'm so happy to be able to eat this every day."
When I eat at night, my stomach feels like it's been fed, but my heart feels like it's been fed. Is that even possible?

It's not about whether it's delicious or not,
The story goes that if you eat something that you recognize as breakfast at night, a bug occurs in your brain and your intake becomes zero.
In my case, the dinner menu is rarely the same, so I eat it as a meal at night, but the breakfast menu is usually the same, so
Ah, so I realized that breakfast is not a meal but a habit.


Habits are great, it feels like the burden is getting closer to zero.
Maybe I only have a limited capacity to choose in a day, and when I'm tired I can't choose anything and I just wander around the convenience store for about 1 minutes. It's such a nuisance.
That's why it's easier to create habits like having breakfast together, limiting your clothing options, and reducing the number of choices you make.
Instead, I have about nine different types of tea and coffee at home, and I look forward to choosing one every day.


By the way, I have about 10 pairs of identical MUJI socks in stock,
It's a great life hack because you don't have to worry about anything when hanging out the laundry and it pairs with whatever you wear.



Oh, I know it's quite difficult to read, but please imagine it as a transcript of a radio broadcast and play it over in your head.
Actually, I speak quite slowly.

You must be getting sleepy by now.
Okay then, see you next time.


Sea (updated 2025.02.07)