1. Finally tackling the pile of dirty dishes threatening to engulf the sink and feeling virtuous
2. A lazy day trip to Carlton to sip lattes and eat lemon meringue tarts at Brunetti’s, while catching up with an old friend
3. Picking up your lay-by of a coveted pair of shoes (Doc Marten zip-up boots in a delicious shade of red)
4. Putting down a new lay-by on jeans … though not the skinny pair you’d kind of planned on, as these officially make you look like Mutton Dressed As Lamb
5. Dinner at the pub with a new(ish) friend and too much red wine, wearing wonderful new boots
6. Hot chocolate with pink and white marshmallows in front of a DVD (though it doesn’t go too well with the red wine, as you discover as you lie in bed half-watching Rage at the end of the night, feeling your age as you marvel at Depeche Mode and Frankie Goes to Hollywood)
7. Plotting revenge on your neighbourhood nemesis by sketching out a Desperate Housewives style satirical novel with HER as the villainess. Your pleasure is not diminished by the fact that you know you will never write it.
8. Serendipitously stumbling upon new lodgings – and getting a loan to help you move house within minutes (thanks Dad!)
9. Evading work and a creeping deadline for as long as possible*
10. Sunday night home-made lasagne (by you) with generous lashings of red wine in the sauce and enough left-overs to feed you for a week … which you’ll probably need, as you’ll now be too busy working to cook.
* I should mention that Sunday WAS spent working (though I should have been doing it Saturday too, really). But hey, then I got lasagne ...
7 comments:
I'd never seen that Frankie Goes to Hollywood video. I think possibly in the past I'd misinterpreted the song.
Oooooh. Good boots. A girl can never have too many boots, my dear. And I hope that your pub dinner with red wine was shared with Miss Audrey. I still live in hope that the three of us will get hilariously drunk one evening :)
PS The mere mention of the word "Brunetti" brings me out in a sugar-induced sweat!
PPS Don't mourn the skinnies. Skinnies don't suit anyone over five stone. And since you're younger than I am, I refuse to allow you to ever be mutton etc.
Were you watching Rage too, TC? I went to sleep to images of gay men in leather bearing frightening moustaches. So yeah, me too I think.
RC, no, I didn't manage to catch up with Miss Audrey. I know she was in town and dropped her a tentative offer but didn't want to push it given her recent events. GOD I would love to have that drunken evening. (And to leave Melbourne briefly, when it comes to that.) It will happen!
Yeah, I thought of you when I was trying on the skinnies - really. I was thinking that they really are in the realm of pirate boots. I guess you only make these fashion mistakes once. And I did it the first time around. (Hence the mutton.)
Oh, and btw, I am in Hack Hell now - stuck in the midst of a frighteningly dense government report that seems it will never NEVER end. Which I am writing from scratch. Just wanted to complain ...
Ah, boots and red wine, there's been a definite outbreak of both in Brisbane lately. I'm not responsible for the boots, but I may have something to do with the red wine...
Go the red wine! Wish I had some now ...
Heh - Hack Hell. I had to translate a legal guide from Legalese into English a while ago. I feel your pain.
Yup. Thought you might ...
Try 25,000 words in two weeks. That, my friend, is my current definition of Hack Hell.
If only I were planning to write a novel, it would be good practice for that 'write 1000 words every day' thing.
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