Tuesday, 31 January 2012
sometimes . . .
I get weirdly excited about leftovers (instant dinner!) and broken jewellery. Getting excited about inane things is probably what I'm best at.
I feel overwhelmed with gratitude when things start making sense and I know I'm being provided for in unimaginable ways.
I can't stop thinking about those little stars of black mould taking over the house.
I just want to eat anything I can get my hands on.
I'm kinda a bad person and am writing this instead of those looming 10,000 words.
I wish I could dye my hair ginger and pile it high like Marie Antoinette. I'd wrap pearls around my impressive barnet, and use it as storage space or a quirky boutique hotel for sparrows.
I just don't understand the allure of yorkshire puddings. Sorry Britain.
I can't believe how close I am to graduating. Just the little matters of a degree show and dissertation to deal with first.
I strongly consider spending a lot of money on delicious designer yarn and knitting my way through third year, oblivious to deadlines. I'd hide out in my duvet fort, churning out yards of mittens and socks, then immerge in time for summer with a miraculous first. Sigh.