Day 75.

Something should be said for the practice of counting days, what it leads to or whether it is good or bad. I just finished cooking dinner, yea for split pea soup, and reading a book about a man who travels unwillingly throughout time and space, always without his clothes. No matter what the form of travel, traveling nude seems like it would always be exciting. He was constantly counting days and dates, and, when he discovered the date of his death, most likely had a countdown in which he numbered every hour. Despite great tragedies, the time traveler was happy, he had a good life and was constantly surrounded in mutual love. I wonder if his count down helped him to appreciate his days more or if they just distracted him from living. I, on the other hand, do not know when I am going to die and am not counting down the days I die or the number of days I have left. I am counting the number of days in a year, from march to march. Right now I have quite a few days left. I also have a few hours left in this afternoon/evening and I think I would really like to go eat dinner. ....I have always wanted to travel throughout time and space, but I think...I just like clothes to much.