The sun is out, the skies are clear, the humidity level is way above satisfactory, and the air is warm enough to be enjoyed with a light shirt, and cool enough to pair a light scarf with that cool shirt. A fine day, indeed. A perfect day to just lay on the beach and sip sangria and enjoy the HK sands just before the days get dry and punishingly cold.
But instead, I am sitting in front of the computer, writing this entry and having a quick lunch so I can prepare for the 5 hours of dance classes I am teaching in the afternoon.
I could be bitter.
Or I could see that, despite my not being able to enjoy the beach, life is perfect in a way that today's earnings will be enough to pay for this month's rent.
I choose the latter.
Perfect is subjective.