Today marks a very important discovery. I’d tell you all about the mundanity that started my day - waking, breakfasting, dressing - but in the years to come, will people really be reading my journals and want to know whether I had eggs or bacon?

Of course not! So I won’t waste any more ink or paper.

I think I have broken gravity.

You’ll note I’ve written THINK and that’s because this is extremely uncharted territory. Even the scientists who pioneered the first blimp charters play by the rules of gravity.

So when a ballerina literally floats into your life, laughing in the face of the force that Newton got bonked on the head by, you’re a ship that’s suddenly unmoored.

It’s taken weeks - three and a half, to be exact - for the aforementioned ballerina to agree to let me take a sample of his blood. And another week - eight days, if we’re being precise - for me to crack it. Literally.

But don’t assume I’m foolish. I’m not about to divulge the science of it here. I keep all my notes in a secure location. You won’t find any clues to breaking gravity within these pages.

Even now, I’ll admit, there are still parts of the process that allude me. Especially the reversal. Things in my lab are going up … but they’re not coming back down. But I’m not the kind of girl that’s easily deterred.

I’ve already broken gravity. How hard can it be to fix it?