Night fell hiding my disappointed face better than a paper bag, as I reviewed the clothes I'd hung out to dry last night to find that there were no long pants and the realisation I had left my cardy at work, for tonight is a sisters birthday and it will be a chilly ride home in cotton shorts and a t-shirt highlighted by the orange safety vest with reflective stripes that I feel compelled to donn on night trips but which makes me feel somewhat dicky.
I used my track pants to stuff a pillow case for Bubba-cat who refuses to come inside at present, after he vomited on the pillow I gave him originally.
So now here I slouch in my sisters computer chair and unfortunately reflected into the corner of my vision from the mirrored wardrobe and reminding me somewhat of my childhood when I'd creep outside to pat a kitten only to be confronted by a startlingly obese cane-toad squatting in a bowl of milk, fair stinking of gloating self-satisfaction. I have eaten rather too much pizza and now my sister has handed me a Corona with a slice of lime in it.
Lady in the takeaway shop at lunch today spoke of her love of eating lemon with salt on it. She recommended little bits of lemon chopped up and scattered on Vegemite and toast. Perhaps I'll get tipsy on the weekend and try it. It would make a change from the type of thing I generally try making when I am pissed. Certainly a great many less ingredients involved.