Well, being a slacker might not be the career option I thought it would be – all that laying around doing nothing kind of annoys me. Bizarre. If there’s anyone in this world that was born to slack, I’d have said it was me.
Monday, I made a spinch and gorgonzola quiche, did a heap of tidying and scrubbed the kitchen until it gleamed (which lasts about 4 hours before needing to be redone, alas). I did some maintenance to the Voodoo Kitchen catalogue, tinkered which all the photo’s and tweaked them into looking much better, went to the bank and put through a load of washing.
Yesterday, 33C heat notwithstanding, I kneaded and baked a huge loaf of bread (mum gave me a huge sack of white flour, but it’s got a slightly odd scent to it and the bread dries out worse than cake – pizza dough hereafter, methinks), made The Husband a honest-to-god bento box for lunch (unagi plus korean pancake plus extra kimchi), picked up and tidied the living-room, did more maintenance on the VK site and generally pottered around the house.
Today, I did two loads of washing, and went through and sorted, tidied and generally cleaned out my wardrobe (which was disgustingly untidy), walked to the mailbox and posted a whole pile of the former owners junkmail as “return to sender” plus my QuickFlix returns and now I’m contemplating what to make for dinner.
What the heck is wrong with me? Perhaps I need to take to the bottle and spend some time blissfully zonked out of my head?