In the Mood for Complaining.

Crunch time is on, which means something must give. First went the social life, then the stilettos, then the make-up. I am still eating, but only if it is food that allows me to eat with one hand while practising with the other. You know, hands separate work.

On the menu tonight:

Main course
Flame grilled steak...flavoured potato chips, that is.

Desert
Bounty bar, dark chocolate edition.

Yes, I've been dining at the vending machine. It's no way to live!

***

I decided to do some Spring cleaning last weekend because I can't work in a messy environment. For some reason, my room accumulates dust like I've never seen, and to give you an idea of how dusty it is, I had a sneeze so gigantic that I blew a pile of receipts off my desk.

I also learned that hand-held vacuums need to be emptied. The stuff that goes in doesn't just magically disappear, like I had hoped. In fact, while emptying, the amount of dust and hair collected in the vacuum made me sneeze again, such that I blew the dust all over the floor and had to vacuum the same area twice. Sigh.

Can't wait for the day I return home to a country where hot and cold water doesn't come out of separate faucets. I mean, what were they thinking -- that the temperature would balance out if the right hand froze while the left hand burnt?!