I apologise profusely. It’s been a few hectic weeks, I’ve been working like mad (from home, thank God, and here’s another one of my 43 things ticked off), I’ve set up a new website, and generally done things, been places. Well, done things, mainly — been nowhere interesting.
Frustrated as I am at having nothing of consequence to write, I reckon I’ll just shut up now. Thanks for reading.
I am endlessly astounded at how, the more you do, the more you want to do. I have now between seven and nine projects running, between work and play (the exact number depends on whether a ten-line description/declaration of intent in my personal organizer actually qualifies as a “project”). And I’ve been working like a whirlwind for the past few days.
Work is going fine, play is going even better. Really, I can’t complain. I just need to persuade myself that I simply do not have the time to add to my to-do list. Pity, as I’ve just thought of a wonderful idea for yet another website…
Next person who texts me to say “Merry Xmas”, I’m gonna shoot them.
Now, let me get back to work.
May God Almighty have mercy on us. Italian TV has been colonized by Paris Hilton. (That’s tantamount to shooting the Red Cross, basically.)
Here’s a commercial for mobile phones featuring Paris, sporting the most hilarious accent ever. Apparently, most Italians love to hear their language butchered beyond recognition by foreign celebrities.
I haven’t bought new shoes in four months, but we’re almost there. It’ll soon be mine.
Oh how I love my new duvet cover. Looks quite posh, but it’s actually from Ikea.
(The pic was, regrettably, taken with my mobile, hence the blurriness. Soz. I promise my walls aren’t, in actual fact, green.)
If you deliberately ignore the fact that you’re actually sitting in a McDonald’s restaurant, a remarkably good time is to be had at the McCafé in the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele, in central Milan.
Yummy soft fruit cake, frothy cappuccino (though in a paper cup, meh) with a dash of liquid black chocolate on top, and today’s Herald Tribune.
The next best thing to an actual Starbucks, which we’re never going to have in Italy I’m afraid.
