Today was

a good day. I woke up at noon. Decided not to have tea, and have an uncaffeinated day.
Worked out, enjoyed breakfast, studied a little, and then I decided that I wanted to move around, and went for a walk.
Chose to walk to the lake, and freeze a view of it in January in my mind.
On the way there I found a spectacularly large, roman, and round building that I'd never noticed before. Walking around it I found enormous sculptures of elk guarding the front gates.
The building was The Elks Veterans Memorial Building, and was open to the public, so I ventured in out of curiosity.
As I walked up the steps, I examined the door, looking for a handle. The front entry was huge and bronze and flat and very imposing. It did not appear possible to enter, looking at it. I came closer and saw a plaque attached to one side of the door with a button and a sign: "Press button for entry."
I pressed the button.
A very old man opened the door slowly, inward.
I walked inside and was immediately impressed with the enormity of the room I was walking into; an enormously round room that arced up to a high dome.
The horrendously old man (with an odd growth upon his chin that drew my eyes) gave me some light history of the building and invited me to walk around on my own.
I stood in the center of the dome and gazed straight up to the point, a hundred feet from my own feet.
I explored the building and it was spectacular, with a shockingly ornate room beyond the dome patterned after the Great Hall at Versaille.

After my exploration of the dome, I went to the rocks at the shore of the lake, and watched day turn to night, the lights of far off downtown slowly appearing, as the outlines of the tall buildings grew hazier.

I walked home and studied more, then went to a poetry performance and open mic.

I performed a piece of mine that I've memorized, and won exhilaration from the effort of exhibition. I enjoyed the performed and returned home in long bouncing strides, jubilant.

I rewarded myself with a beer from the mini-mart and retired to make room for the next day.