Waiting and waiting and waiting. Endless maybes and what-ifs snuggling together in a great sticky ball of uncertainty. More than anything else, I would like it to be a week from now. I have absolutely no desire to experience the rest of this week, but must due to contractual obligations. I very much wish to retire to the supreme bed of comfiness and stay there indefinately. I may rise for stir-fry and cups of tea. I may not.
I tried to get someone else's baby to sleep today. She took one look at me and screeched for 1/2 an hour. So that was comforting.
The cottage is a right shambles and there are no seeds for the players at Pear-Tree Theatre. I feel unreasonably guilty about this and should pop off shops and remedy immediately. Does that count as my daily act of random kindness? (being that it is neither random, nor particularly 'kind').
I also spent an unusually large amount of time at the piano when I got home desperately figuring out the Ewok theme from 'Return of the Jedi'. It seemed important at the time.
Dinner will be beans on toast. Poor Mr, he should trade me in.