The slight weight of my favorite pen in my left hand. The little challenge of balancing my beaten up composition book in my lap.
A mug of warm tea resting on the table beside me with dragons of steam and earthy fragrance curling from the top. It's the perfect amount of warm in this room.
Not so warm that you notice but also not so cold you could catch a chill. This is the physical equivalent of my happy place. The comfort of this moment is purely unbeatable.