Sixes and Sevens

Well, pretty babies, it hasn't been the most awesome week ever. I'm writing from home because my hours and pay got cut, and after spending last night taking it personally, making recession-friendly popcorn for dinner, and panicking, I feel slightly better. Though it's very odd to be home on a Friday when I'm usually at work trying not to strangle people, I've decided to take advantage of the opportunity to listen to NPR (love of all loves), Radio 4's Woman's Hour (object of my obsession during grad school in London), and drink very, very strong coffee. I suppose I should be doing something improving like LOOKING FOR ANOTHER JOB or TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIFE or CLEANING THE FUCKING KITCHEN GOD DAMMIT but today, I'm going to take it easy.

Other news:
The cats are licking each other in inappropriate places.
I have the Pussycat Dolls stuck in my head. DONCHA?
There is a Dutch oven full of mold in my refrigerator. I am very afraid.


This blog is going downhill. FAST.



Illustrations via Sete Dias, works and days of Cristiana Couceiro.