In pursuit of trying new things, I have signed up for a French class, and taken up volunteer work as a docent in a museum. I am still struggling with the a plus tards and bienvenues in French. And with the volunteering work, I still get lost in the 200-year-old Rockwood mansion, while assisting a tour. I haven’t sketched anything for a while. My Micron pens lie rested in the pouch. And my sketch book is now under a pile of a fresh set of books from the library. A staunch tea-drinker, sometimes, I find myself filling a mug of coffee. A lunch break used to mean a couple of episodes of Sex and the City, but now I sit straight and watch a 40-minute intense episode of The West Wing. There was a fear of taking the car out by myself. Sweaty legs, shivering hands. I slowly shed the fear, like a snake would shed its skin. Now, I take the car to the mall in the noon and try out a new Sephora lipstick shade and Clarke’s newest collection. This is life. And life is good.