So, it’s the evening of July 5th–and the holiday weekend is officially over–which for me, is really no big because I have nothing to do tomorrow anyhow, except pick out paint colors. It’s not as easy as it sounds, given that my designer’s primary job seems to be bringing me back to Earth when I get too outlandish in my selections–and my job seems to be making ridiculous, colorful choices.
In this instance, I want very cool blue-whites all over the upstairs, except maybe a soft pink white in the bedroom, closet and main bath. I know that my designer will say no to the blue white because it’s so cold, but that’s exactly how I want it to look–spare, arctic and icy. The furniture and art can warm it up–but I want to look good in my own home–which means the cooler the better when it comes to shades of white.
It’s Monday now, and things are only as they can be in a life as odd as mine. The doorbell woke me at 730am with a bunch of parcels–most likely of items that I ordered while under the influence (not alcohol) during the holiday weekend. Shopping while intoxicated has become a fun, but expensive, hobby wherein I order things while inebriated and then try to guess what will be in the packages that arrive. Today, it was tshirts in a small parcel–ones that say, “#Imnoangel. I have yet to check the larger box–but the return address says, “Feminist Apparel”, so I can only imagine what I ordered. You’ll know when I know.
Another development is the return of a friend who wasn’t a friend for a while and who was the subject of an earlier article. I’m torn as to whether I should be friends with him again, given that he hurt me really very badly–and that he’ll likely do it again. The problem is that during the time he was gone–I genuinely missed him and probably will again as soon as he dumps our friendship in favor of pursuing a relationship with some rando. They will always come first for him. I know that, but I hate it.
ealvfargond 