The date is finally set - Lyn and I are gonna move flats on 22 August. We both can't wait to get out of our current walls and start a completly new life...one story below our current flat. Ah well, you can't always get what you want. Plus, the new flat underneath our current one is much bigger and only slightly more expensive. It also has two loos. Which is absoultely brilliant, since now we can pee synchronically and continue our conversations if we leave both doors open. I love progress. Also, I was thinking that if we get enough people to help us move we can build a human chain down the two flights of stairs and simply pass down our furniture.
Today I thought I'd honour this special occasion by going out and shopping for some wall paint for my new room. So I get on the bus, heading for "Praktiker" and after two stops, I have to urgently leave the bus, because I'm bursting into tears. Now, was it because I saw a puppy being run over by a car? A mean guy stealing a baby's lollipop? A bratty youth not giving his seat to an invalid elderly? No. I burst out in tears, because I couldn't decide what colour to pick for my room. Pale mint green or lavender? I briefly decided to go shopping for Prozac and a straight jacket instead of the paint but then I remembered that women sometimes suffer from inexplainable, erratic, hormonal imbalance. Now I'm gonna curl up in bed and cry like a wounded, invalid, elderly puppy who didn't get a seat on the bus and doesn't have a lollipop. Honestly, this whole question of what colour my room will be better be dissolved by tomorrow noon. Otherwise I'm gonna walk into "Praktiker" and do my best Meryl Streep impression till they give me both buckets of paint for free.


Pale mint green or lavender!!!!