The prosaic, in prose

This morning, I lay in bed after waking up, thinking about all the little things that I needed to do.

Then I got up and did them.

  • Took down Xmas decor: this involved putting tinsel and little holly clusters away, setting the wreath out to dry in the sun, and handwashing the Xmas runner.
  • Speaking of handwashing, I finally washed this other shirt that's been lying on the room floor for over a week, waiting to be handwashed. Why do I keep buying clothes that require delicate care, when it's so leh cheh (troublesome)?
  • Replaced the Xmas runner with the usual table runner we bought in Mai Chau, Vietnam.
  • Folded and kept the laundry.
  • Made lunch, including spending about five minutes hunting down the new mayo and worrying that Terz took it with him to Indonesia, since we bought it at the same time as some other supplies for his trip. It turned out to be in the fridge.
  • Painted my fingernails.
  • Didn't do anything work-related. Yay!

Now off to dinner with the parentals, followed by a friend's birthday party, at which I probably won't know a soul.

If I had categories for my blog, I'd filed this one under "The Prosaic and the Pendantic".


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