I feel a great need to get out. Go out for some “air”.
I still wonder about the origins of that term “going out for some air”. It’s as if people don’t breathe air until they go out to take a “breather”.
I want to go shopping. Buy some pretty things to ease myself off this crappy season. It’s an obsession/addiction with the shops and the process of surrendering money in exchange for goods.
Oh, the perils of being an unpaid homemaker.
I still have a $10 Topshop/Topman/Dorothy Perks voucher left unused. And it’s expiring on the 19th. And it suuuuuuucks to be at home due to low finances and crap weather. As if I haven’t had enough of being at home for 5 entire weekdays on end. Joshua and I don’t even stray beyond a 1km radius of our block.
Huei came over last night to borrow my spare mobile because hers fell *ahem* into the toiletbowl and is still under repair. I still find the notion very amusing. Phone, toilet. Phone, toilet.
I have to stop jinxing myself by asking how on earth a mobile can end up in the toilet. Question the Universe, and your queries will be responded to by live examples. *wink*
Anyhow, I went off on a tangent. Uncle Henry now calls me OTG (Off Tangent Girl) because I just have this unrelenting knack of digressing.
I was going to say how lust Huei’s new Ebase skirt and Cotton On low V-neck tee. But ya, this month is so bad that I can’t even buy anything from Cotton On, the reputed super dirt cheap cotton clothing retail store from Australia. 😦
Huei responds with a “I don’t work my ass off for nothing” when I envy her financial independence. So does it mean that I’m not working hard enough as a housewife, or that I’m just not “working” per se, that’s why I don’t get to achieve the same set of results?
Granted, being a full-time mother is an emotionally rewarding (similarly draining) and noble “profession”, but it hardly pays the bills, does it? Let alone all the superficial materialistic needs/wants I have. It’s all about the money, baybeh. And there ain’t any here. *points to empty pockets, wallet and bank account*
I hate it when significant money-draining events all clusterfuck together. Especially those that can’t be delayed or ignored.
Well, at least I don’t have to continue hunting for new bottoms to fit my postnatal ass/hips. I have an entire wardrobe’s contents to sieve through for something I can definitely wear (but not necessarily flattering to my new body shape). That’s at least some consolation, no?
But ugh… shhhhhhopppppinggggg… *crawls on knees with one one arm outstretched, clamouring for an invisible loaded piggybank*