Just a little, quick, random post before going to bed.
A bed that, at the present time, looks like this:
Yeah, somewhere - under tons of fabric - it should be my bed.
At least, I think so.
I have to replace my summer clothes with fall and winter clothes, so I've taken advantage of an unforeseen one-day holiday (the guy who should teach me my new job has got a flu) and I rolled up my sleeves.
I decided to list all my clothes into an Excel file (separating them by colour, pulling apart the formal ones from the informal ones, etc), following the advice of a wise friend (who manages to have almost as much skirts as me), because, even if I have much more dresses than I could possibly wear in my whole life, when I have to go out I never manage to find a single one that works for the occasion: and I usually sit on my bed with a disconsolate expression on my face, shaking my head like an old dog, and muttering to myself : "Twenty-one years collecting clothes, and I still have nothing to wear".
Guess what I found out, while classifying my clothes?
That I am... a person of fixed habits.
What's new about that?
But I realized that I have a disquieting proclivity to buy the same item twice - and I became aware that I have
- two exactly alike gingham skirts with black round buttons on the front (one was my mum's, the other was found at a second-hand market)
- two white knee-lenght polka-dot skirts (one bought in Germany during a field trip, the other found, - guess where? - at a second-hand market)
- two black polka-dot shirts
- countless white skirts
- countless black skirts.
... I'm a hazard to myself.
PS: I would love to say I wore the bandana to protect my hair from dust - but, actually, I did it just to feel more homemaker-ish.
I can't do my housework without a little bit of drama.
The Nashville Boogie - My Must-See List of Performers
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