Back to My Roots
They say misery loves company. Well, I’m sure as hell not going to give it any more company, especially so since I had such a crap practice today. Mind was wandering off being a chatty cathy, thinking about someone, something, somehow, somewhere. One thing I’ve learnt about my body is : [over] thinking + stressing + over analysing = rashes, cold sore, The Runs [it’s capitalised for a reason!].
So I shall publicise, on teh interwebs [no, it’s not a spelling error], the blonde things that happened to me the past few days.
1. “The Inbox”
I’m awaiting a package from the US, so that means I’m constantly stalking the magical box that receives items dropped off by a man on a motorbike. The what? The letterbox. Throughout the day my mum’s reply to “Is there anything in the inbox?” was a “WHAT INBOX?”, before I realised : Oh. Not inbox. Letterbox.
2. “Don’t ladies shower there?”
“once you get inside, on your left is the sign-in area. there’s benches underneath the windows. on the right is the wall that blocks the men’s shower”
Hmm. So I began typing in my reply :
“Hang on, men’s showers? Don’t ladies need showers as well?” and nearly hit “Submit Comment” before realising :
Sweat’s a guy. I don’t think he needs to know where the ladies’ showers are.
The BY studio has lifts to all 3 floors [like I said, Malaysians are a lazy bunch of people]. So I got on the lift [I *AM* Malaysian!] and waited to go up to the second floor. And waited. And waited. And waited. 30 seconds must’ve passed before I realised that I didn’t press the button to the second floor.
At this rate, I might as well let my natural hair colour take over.