Diary: Soup & Prison

I'm in such a weird mood right now and I feel so forgetful and unable to concentrate, so describing this week is tough because all of time feels so distant and foggy, but I do know it involved some very delicious French onion soup. One day perhaps my life will just seem like a series of memorable soups. If so, I look forward to it.

I have a habit of dumping clean clothes into a pile in my wardrobe, and whilst it's marginally better than piling them on the floor, it's still a bit of a headache when I open my wardrobe door and have to circumvent an avalanche, so on Friday I sorted out my wardrobe. It's way nicer when everything's hung up and neat, and it makes everything much easier to find.

On Sunday I went to Aaron's birthday gathering in Russell Square, and it was really nice to meet everyone and listen to the soothing sound of approximately a thousand ukuleles. I was super sleepy after that, but so glad I went.

I feel like this week has gone by in a haze, but perhaps the return of my favourite prison drama can wake me up a bit. I realised yesterday that Wentworth is back, so of course I immediately watched every new episode available, still shuddering at the memory of the third season finale (Joan Ferguson 4eva). It's so intense and I love it.


  1. I had a very mixed up week too. I met a Brazilian guy who swept me of my feet and left me broken.


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