Screw essay marking—I'm going DANCIN'!
Last week has been all sorts of amazing: Sunday I found myself marking scripts at the Cider Pit + late night dimsum; most of Monday was spent at the Mango Dollies' Artistry gig followed by yuzu martinis at Bar Stories; I took Tuesday and Wednesday off to lead a relatively more subdued life; Thursday found me at a farewell tea party cooing over a red velvet cake frosted with coconut, nursing a tiny macchiato, and stealing lemon poppyseed cake and cheesecake from J and D, which was followed by sweatpants-hunting, and then another gig at BooksActually before hopping from Coq and Balls to Maison Ikkoku, another pretentious watering hole, where I had a rosemary yuzu thing (again) and gazed longingly at the salted caramel drink beside me; on Friday I went to YH's and had a vegetarian paella that wanted to be a risotto; I ended off Saturday nursing a headache and chewing on pieces of wonderfully salty-cheesy spinach-ricotta ravioli alla pastora and tucking into a gula melaka ice cream after rehearsal. Today I am dreading the final week of term because it harkens my slow descent into essay marking hell, and unsentimental goodbyes (mitigated by brownies, that I have to bake now) to my classes.
I am looking forward to: hate-watching The Great Gatsby, Star Trek, making hummus multiple times, and fussing over the trip to Sydney. I've learnt to create my own spaces for happiness because happiness isn't going to come to me like flies to a cesspit. It doesn't work that way.
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