I’ve had a cold. Did I mention that? I know I did, actually, I just wanted to see if you had been paying attention. Shame on you if you haven’t. What kind of fan are you, anyway? I expect much better from you in the future.
Anyway, my cold never quite got over its commitment phobia. After a while, it decided to settle in my right ear. Which I suppose is much better than having it throughout your whole head, so I’m not complaining. Then it went away. This caused for some sort of celebration, I figured. Movie, snacks, candles. And a bubble bath. Not necessarily all at the same time.
As soon as I’d decided to purty my flat up with candles, I reliced that all my make-the-room-look-real-purty-stuff was still crammed into cardboard boxes from the move. Images of myself throwing things into whichever box happened to be closest whilst cursing The Powers That Be for not having invented self-packing belongings, flashed into my head. I didn’t have the faintest idea which box held my tea-light candleholders and even less inclination to go searching for them. Clearly, I needed new stuff. Not only did I have cause for celebration, I also had an excuse to go shopping. This was turning into a pretty good day.
Now, a few hours later, I’ve watched a couple of movies, my flat is full of luvely light and I’m all pink and wrinkly from my bath. Course, the bubbles turned out to be of the cheap variety and I smell a little bit like a wunderbaum, but you can’t have everything. I suppose.