The Brit BF's mom came home today from the hospital. It's better for her to be at home, with family. I just feel so bad for him. He's not alone, he has family but I still feel bad. He has his work to keep him from dwelling on all the emotional stuff going on at home. Work can be good for that. I know if I didn't make something to do for myself, I'd probably be in some psych ward, loaded on medication. I'm having a laugh. On more than a few occasions, work has been a savior for me. Focusing on something else is a good way to stay sane. In other news, I am spending a quiet afternoon at one of the local coffee emporiums. I got my drink, found a really comfortable chair, and just taking it easy. Nice way to unwind after doing housework. I told mom that if I ever get married, a cleaning service is a non-negotiable condition of marriage. I simply refuse to spend my married life dusting and mopping my house. I don't mind doing the laundry, just let someone else iron it. I'd rather get my weekly manicure/pedicure and blow dry than clean the kitchen and bathrooms. Random thought, so glad I just had coffee, I feel more revived. Now I'm thinking I need a little chocolate. Okay, back to some coherent thought. The coffee place I'm sitting in has a really nice, kind of retro vibe to it. It feels like the sort of place you might find some mid-twentieth century writer sitting, furiously scribbling away in a notebook some thoughts on the next great American novel. At least the coffee is good.
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