"You look so happy!" said Paige when I made an entrance into the living room at midnight last night. And I am, I am happy. So happy.
I had the cosiest slumber on the couch the night before, with the manufacturing of z's commencing at half past nine. The past week I have been assigned the task of drawing Christmas bits and pieces here and there about the cafe so a little more chalk detailing took place at work, which was enjoyable. Unfortunately I didn't finish before sunset, but I did witness the change in lighting on account of the sun was actually out today and skies were blue not grey!
When I got home I did the thing I'd been looking forward to all afternoon. I spoke to my Swede. A proper conversation, the first one of the week in fact. It was so wonderful. We talked about Christmas and presents and traditions and my new brown knitted dress and how excited we are to see each other. He's so lovely. I'm so smitten, it's sick.
When the sun was well and truly sleeping I went to Richmond, to The Mitre. My (once weekly, now occasional) Wednesday dwelling space. I almost abandoned my plan to make the commute to instead stay in with Little Asha and watch Matilda but I;m so glad I went. The sunshine from the morning still had me in a good mood so I walked up and down the platform, heel to toe along the yellow line at West Hampstead and whistled to what was playing in my ears while I waited for my train. Any by stander may have thought I was somewhat autistic but that's ok. Maybe I am.
I saw my picture on the wall at The Mitre, Chris bought me a drink or two, Sebastian greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and let me taste his J2O, Alan said it was nice to see me and Marco (along with all of the above) told me once again and over and over that I was magnificent.
I was so happy. I am so happy. So happy.
Today I wore slightly mismatched clothes because I can and FYI I don't even care.
