lacklustre

20 May

one of my favourite books. makes me a little weepy every time i read it. srsly.

flipping through formerly blank pages that are now filled with my random scribbles, trying to find something to post here. i need a new scanner though, so anything put here would be dependent on some super insta-creativity on my part which is unfortunately sorely lacking at the mo’. it’s hot and i’m feeling sluggish and grumpy, and have a sore throat, and my allergies are acting up. (speaking of which, as i was taking my drugs this morning – vitamins, antihistamine, allergy meds, the like – i stopped to look at the small pile of pills i was about to take and i suddenly felt old. is this how it goes? with each passing year i’ll accumulate more and more pills until i’m swallowing handfuls daily just to survive? sigh…) n e way, basically all i can muster right now is a “mmmhmph” and a scowl to match. i think it’s return-to-childhood time: surely a fluorescent pink popsicle and a quick reading of the giving tree will perk me up, no?

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