This morning, I placed a phone playing a pinyin song beside Hamer’s pillow before leaving the room. After a while, I returned to wake her, and she slowly got up. Just as she was heading to the bathroom, she suddenly mentioned her nose was bleeding. I quickly helped her pinch her nose to stop the bleeding and assisted her to the bathroom, thinking it might have been caused by the dry overnight air. Later, I noticed her nails were quite long—perhaps she had scratched her nose and ruptured a blood vessel. I silently reminded myself to trim her nails in the evening.
While washing up and getting dressed, Hamer was extra cautious, worried her nose might not have fully stopped bleeding. She was even afraid to blow her nose when she saw mucus. Before we left, she grew anxious again, concerned there might still be traces of blood her classmates would notice. Her mood dipped, and her attitude while packing wasn’t great. We left about five minutes later than usual. She seemed bothered by the delay, but I reassured her, saying, “Today’s a special situation; it’s okay. The teacher will understand.”
After dropping her off at school, I felt unsettled on the way home, reflecting on the chaotic morning. Back at home, as I prepared breakfast and coffee, my frustration showed on my face. Once I finished, I sat down to write in my journal. As the words flowed, my mood gradually eased. Later, while getting ready for work, I noticed Xiaoyan’s expression seemed off. When I asked her what was wrong, she snapped, “So it’s okay for you to have a bad attitude, but no one else can?” I wanted to argue but decided to stay quiet.
The morning was spent addressing the spacing record issue I had discovered the night before. Despite revising it several times, there were still gaps. Thankfully, a colleague caught the problem during the Pull Request review and pointed it out; otherwise, it could have caused major issues. In the afternoon, we went out for field testing, and this time, everything went smoothly. Our first Release Candidate (RC) version was completed on schedule, marking a satisfying milestone.
Around lunchtime, on a whim, I decided to hit the gym. First, I had enough time, and second, I worried that if new issues popped up later in the day, I might miss the chance again. I packed my bag and headed out, feeling unusually cheerful. At the gym, I started with some cardio before moving on to strength training. While there, I bumped into a colleague doing heavy deadlifts. Feeling inspired, I decided to try it myself. She cautioned me, “Your back just recovered; it’s better to avoid this exercise.” Ignoring her advice, I went ahead. The weight was heavy, and after just three lifts, my lower back started to feel uncomfortable. I immediately stopped and switched to bench presses, squats, hip thrusts, and a few new machines. By the end, my arms were sore, but most of my body felt fine—except for my back, which was noticeably strained.
Close to the end of the workday, I thought I’d get home early. I called Xiaoyan and suggested we go out for Hunan noodles together. I also called Hamer and invited her along. Picking her up on my electric scooter, we met Xiaoyan near the noodle shop. By then, my lower back pain had worsened. After finishing our meal, we headed home as the night grew colder. Hamer fell asleep on the scooter, exhausted from the day. On the chilly winter night, the three of us rode home together. Xiaoyan teased me, saying, “You’re just looking for hardship—why didn’t you take the subway instead?” But as I glanced up at the sky, my mood unexpectedly lifted. The night was clear and bright, scattered with clouds, and a single shining star hung in the sky, as if guiding our way. In that moment, everything felt just fine.
Back home, Hamer stayed asleep, skipping her bedtime routine before climbing into bed. I lay flat on the floor to ease my back and ended up chatting with a colleague about ideas from our recent 1-on-1 session.
