It is not fair that when I go shopping with my mother, only I end up buying things. I don’t like shopping. At all. (Today I discovered my superpower: Texting while shuffling after my mom as she browses through racks of clothing. Srsly. Dudes.)
Yet Sunday, I came home with four skirts, a raincoat, a straw tea hat, and fabric for kitchen curtains and matching dish towels (I think the two pieces of fabric began life as table cloths, but fear my sewing skills!). Today? Three shirts and a wok at Ross. And then I felt a very great urge to lie down. (I came home and had a cuppa, which is almost the same thing.)
Meanwhile, the Santa Anas have been blowing, and I think I must be allergic to something they’re blowing at me, not to mention my hands feel like mummy hands because all the moisture is being sucked out of them. They say it will rain tomorrow, and if it does, that chorus of angelic voices you hear will be coming from my throat.
Now, if I could only a game of Fluxx against these people in my house, things would be just fine.