Sunday, August 31, 2008

Sunday Morning

It's good to be home.

On Friday night, as we swept past the flat en route to the parental house, it hurt. Even though I got conversation, tea and breakfast that I didn't have to make, not until last night, when I was curled up on the floor next to The Roomate and Her Boy giggling about something inane and slurping up the Spanish liqueur I swiped from the parents, did I sigh and think, I'm home.

I woke up this morning in a fuzzy purr, and even though there was no milk, The Roommate went to the store and bought it and Her Boy boiled it so MinCat could have her tea.

And now, as we sit on the living room floor caterwauling along with Adam Levine, all the angst, doubt and trouble of the past week melts away: This is why my life is the way it is, and This makes it worthwhile.


  1. and now we can return to being poetic on the godrej cupboard. tiptoeing into your room with you in it makes sense only when you're back.


    chai, maybe? yeah, they fairy has a new incarnation :)


    home feels like home now. welgum back mangi (SO difficult to phoneticize mall on a regular keyboard) LOL

  2. aaaaaaaaaaah, typo!

    *the fairy, ThE fairy

  3. JUB! i forgive you the typos :) because i looveeeee youuuuuu :D and yes, go make the chai bitch! :D

  4. Did the roommate really go out to buy milk? I believe the boy's story. Are you protecting the roomie?

  5. no no I swear! she even went twice cos the first time there was no tetra[ak and she came back to ask if i wouldn't mind packet milk. and she made me chai again this morning!