I’m lying on my couch, mostly naked, and I’m thinking about how I should go for a walk, and how the dress I’ve been fixing for a client is still unfinished, and how my job makes me miserable and how I haven’t written anything good in weeks.
In the back of my mind is the idea that I should call my sister, and demand to know why she told our mum that she tried to talk to me about something, and I told her I wasn’t interested and hung up the phone. But I can’t be bothered with an argument, and I’m too tired to be angry.
It is past 9pm and it’s still 27 degrees, but in my house it’s more like 35 because it stays hot. And I can’t open the windows because none of them have flyscreen and I don’t want to have to battle mosquitos. I miss winter a lot.
I’m hot, and have a mild headache, and my boobs ache and I just want tomorrow to be the weekend so I don’t have to move.