Nothing to tell really. Nothing happened, not to me, with me or about me. Lots of maybes. I may be moving country this year, or I may not. Who knows. I don't. I may have to finally pick something to do, or I may just become a boring housewife with nothing to do but go shopping or something. Maybe I'll be one of those that only do yoga or sunbathing or get wrinkled really young because of being in the hottub all day long.
Well, not that we have one, or a tub I would put anything but my feet in, and only if slippered. In a manner of speaking. Be a Lady of Leisure. Only I'm not much of a lady, and I'm very bad at doing just the leisure part. See, I'm starting to get fed up with these walls. Oddly enough. It's a strange thing. Some people, and I'm pointing at a certain Swede, would love to sit on a couch, catch up on a movie or two, chat online with likeminded slackers. It's because, for once, they'd like a bit of nothingness. But, as with chocolate, whipped cream and sunrays, too much of a good thing is still too much.
So, if you're looking for an over-qualified, bored-to-the-point-where-braintechnicians-would-get-worried-about-the-
lack-of-activity, broke and bordering on the verge of self-appointed loathing and mock-depression, don't look here. To quote another would-be slacker, I really CBA.