Yes. This is what my days are like. Sometimes. At best.
Waking up to a selection of Lebanese 'leftover' delights. A breakfast treat fit for Olympian gods.
Picking up a pair of grey leather ankle boots I saw from conception from the trustworthy shoemaker who makes dreams come true. (*erm. those are not my legs. just for the record)
Doing the Valletta-thing-in-the-sun. Feeling all touristy and mushy on the inside whilst dodging teenagers and their clip-file worth of offers and deals.
Looking for patterns and making unforeseen/uncalled for links as I run errands.
Paying the habitual visit to the familiar haberdashery and crossing out my 'to buy list' only to replace it later on in the week with an even longer one!
Stopping for a breather at Prego.. because there really is no better 11 o'clock snack. I could make this sandwich at home but I don't. If I did I'd probably end up going for less of everything (especially mayo).. but when somebody else prepares it for you it doesn't really count. Same theory applies for whole milk and sugar in tea when I'm at someone else's. It simply doesn't count.
Prego - because even the loos look pretty!
And back home by noon to work on some 'good lookin' separates!
*Tactfully avoiding any mention of waiting for the bus in the sun and being thrown aside by a stampede of eager and impatient fellow bus-stop companions.
*Wishing every day starts out as blissfully.
No comments:
Post a Comment