So, what a thrill-a-minute life I lead, well not really actually.
Friday's dentist appointment did not thrill me for two reasons. First the Asian lady who was doing the task was incredibly rough, and by half-way through my gums were bleeding badly from misapplications of the water jet. She also stated that I had five (5!) cavities, which I found very hard to believe. Whether or not it was true I will have confirmed in time, but I did not enjoy the experience, especially since I had to shell out money for it.
Friday night I discovered the joy of sore feet after lugging my groceries back from Civic on foot, I hadn't wished to cycle due to the intermittent rain which had been part of the whole day.
Saturday morning was spent being domestic. This was disposed off and shopping ensued where I finally found the type of pants I had been looking for, at the student's haven of Target. This was followed by an attempt at some lab work and then a walk over to Peta's place in Ainslie. She was recovering well from her surgery the previous day, and I tried to make myself moderately inconspicuous because her partner J was there and since I'm not a fan of tension, I thought I'd be as neutral as possible.
David and I had organized to have a pizza and Manga night, and he kindly allowed me to crash at his place as I was without the car. It was good fun, we watched "Monster City", "Project A-Ko", "Atragon" and something else which I can't remember. In the morning he was taking his car to a car-show, and I got a lift back. I crashed majorly to catch up on sleep in my own bed.
After sleeping the morning away I went for a slow cycle to the city wearing the new singlet top and pants I bought the day before. I am usually quite paranoid about my wide shoulders, but decided to throw caution to the wind and with my bust thrust outwards, had a nice un-hassled time. I came home via the library picked up a few books (see introduction) and then proceeded to snooze for more of the afternoon.
Maddy called as I was seriously contemplating the gym and we whisked ourselves away to the city where we indulged in excesses of sugar and lots of chats. After she dropped me off, I read and read until I needed to phone home and chat with Mum and Dad and then razoring my way through the leg-hair jungle.
I like to think of my diary as a mnemonic. A memory jogger. I can pretty much remember almost anything if I get a clue, hence looking back a year I can smile, cry (almost), laugh or be reflective on the events from a year ago which would otherwise be buried memories. Sure I'd like my diary to be insightful as well, but it has this other purpose first.