The feeling of taking the last of the Nutella because you feel entitled to it.
Of arriving late at work because you can.
Of reading one of the free newspapers taken from a stand at the bus stop, and realizing it made you think of a friend you haven't seen in over a year.
Of actually sending him a text, suggesting hanging out again soon.
Of actually getting a reply, and a positive - and specific - one.
Of listening to light jazz without having to deal with canapes.
Of being more concerned with an achy knee than all the work you had planned to do (but didn't).
Of hating yourself a little because you forgot to order your iced latte skimmed.
Of compensating for this by hating yourself more by finally being concerned with the work you had planned to do (but didn't).
"Hate" is too strong a word, fortunately. Resent, perhaps?
Well, most of the resentment is at any rate subdued by a glimmer of happiness caused by nothing other than the fact that it is summer, sunny, a relaxed mood in general (though "in general" is too strong a term - so many places in the world in turmoil, and even if the heart becomes blasé with wear and tear the morning news still affects it).
The glimmer of happiness shines, however, brighter than the ache of the heart - or for that matter the knee - fortunately.
And it is also the feeling of slight irritation that the automated blinds try to override your manual setting.
The feeling of considering whether to write what it is that really bothers you, with the risk that it will put yourself in a poor light because it isn't something you are actually entitled to be bothered about.
Of knowing, secretly, that you weren't entitled to the last of the Nutella either, but that it still feels somewhat comforting that you took it.