I don't seem to use this journal for much more than getting a hold of other people or complaining about viruses anymore, but a conversation got me thinking about what it means to be positive. I know, it's a trite subject, right? 'The power of positive thinking'. It makes me think of a self-help seminar... But to be perfectly honest, I'm not sure I'd ever accomplish anything if I wasn't sure I would accomplish it. I don't know how or why I developed that mindset or if it was even a conscious decision, but I'm grateful that I have. I can't imagine what would have happened if I'd given up on certain goals...

Don't get me wrong. It's not always easy, and nobody can be positive all the time, but I think it beats the alternative in a lot of cases.

I guess this is why some people have me labeled as an optimist.

Okay. Just to confirm plans and make sure I have everything straight, we’re taking Pearls trick-or-treating with Maraich’s group tomorrow, and then heading to the masquerade before it gets late. Is that okay with you, Maya? And what about Zelos and Seles? Are you guys up for that?

Speaking of the masquerade, does anybody actually know how much the tickets are? The, uh, currency would be kind of helpful, too...

Sheesh, I don’t think I’ve been this busy for Halloween in years...

It was a virus. I guess I shouldn't be surprised at this point.

Suspect deliberately used a lock knife he had opened prior to the incident and stabbed supposed assailant after suspect had received a single blow to the face.

Phoenix shook his head. Within the last fifteen minutes, he'd read the same sentence five times and still hadn't grasped the meaning of the words. Sighing, he put the paper back in its folder, tossed the whole thing aside, and propped his chin on his head, idly tapping at his keyboard with one finger.

His goal for the day had been to transfer some of Mia's old case files into storage (the cabinet was overflowing and he didn't have the funds to purchase a new one), but he'd somehow managed to distract himself with old reports. He couldn't say he found them particularly interesting; it was simply something to pass the time while his mind continued feeling restless and eager.

He'd woken up with the strangest sense that something important was going to happen, and every time the phone rang or the door opened, he sat up anxiously, half-expecting news that he'd won the lottery or some other nonsense, but so far, the day was no different than any other. No different than last year or the year before that.

After a moment of staring at his computer screen, he yawned and stretched until he felt a satisfying pop in his shoulder and then settled into a slouch. With nothing better to do (or, rather, nothing he felt like doing), he grabbed a pen and scribbled random doodles on his notepad, then practiced his signature beneath them when he tired of doing that.

It was going to be a long day.