girls who bury
Leaving the house is good. Amazing what it can do for your mental state. I thought about heaps of things to write about here over the weekend. Now I don’t feel particularly compelled. It might have something to do with my current state of uncomfortable meat inebriation. I’m waiting for the peppermint tea to kick in.
Right now there are three of us sitting around the kitchen table, in silence, all of us on laptops. The other two (the man of the house and our hirsute house guest) have headphones on. I’m just listening to regular music coming from the stereo (because I am the most important person in the room and I get to choose what gets played out loud). It’s quite funny – sometimes I stop what I am doing and try and see how long I can stare at them without them noticing. Not very long, as it turns out.
I think I am going to save my grand weekend insights for later. Something about the internet being a playground for the (moderately to extremely) unhinged. Oh, and the biggest one — now I remember — self-sabotage of a weekend (or any time, really). And also a little bit about platonic embraces, following on from a dinnertime conversation we just had. I will pick up on these things tomorrow night after my wellness clinic. I may even talk about the wellness clinic, too, if it’s remotely newsworthy.
So it looks like tomorrow’s post is gonna be a bumper one. Which will totally make up for this one being a bit limp. But no apologies.
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Tags: diary, dorothy doldrumatic