So many activities and stuff but nothing much that makes that much of a difference. I guess life is an accumulation of nothing-muchness that turns out to be somethingness at the end of it all.
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Mochi is talking and talking and talking. Bilingual in English and Gibberish.
Picks up the phone and goes, “Herro herro?! *gibberish gibberish gibberish* Ok, bye bye!”
Scatters her toys all over the room and exclaims, “OH! See how messy!”
Goes to the door, “Ding Dong! Herro Dar-ing!”
Cookie Monster impression, “Nyum nyum nyum nyum nyum…” Food all over her feet and the floor.
Goes to fridge, “Open up! Open up!”
Points to desired goodie, “Want this want this!”
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Renewed resolution to not complain and be positive.
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Have yet to clean out my room despite year-end break and Lunar New Year break. There’s always something better to do.
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My vision is now pretty much 6/6. Yeay to technology.
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I want every day to be Sunday.
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I need clothes and accessories that are not orange, green or red. I almost always look like a citrus fruit. In varying stages of ripeness.
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Black is so dull.
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Anchovies and garlic marinated roast chicken seems a delicious idea.
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Calling occupants of interplanetary craft.
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I talk too much. Perhaps a vow of silence is in order.
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Nah.
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I’ve lost the hollows in my collarbones. I say it’s an excess of lipid cells. Mother thinks it’s an excess of years of age.
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Ankle still giving me grief. Seriously, the doc was not joking.
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Like I said before, nothing much and something much
