I have a habit of romanticizing my life. Not in the grand, dangerous way where I pretend everything is beautiful and nothing is wrong. I am, unfortunately, very aware that life is often inconvenient, exhausting, expensive, humid, and held together by caffeine and spite. I still touch grass, if you know what I mean. And I still know the world can be deeply unreasonable. But I have also decided that if I must wash the dishes, I may as well do it while Bach plays in the backgrou