Being particularly moody for the past three days and in a mental condition that could be qualified as mediocre (and only because I'm being gentle to myself) I decided I could use a break and do some chores around the house. I figured it could take the edge off my anger and anyway it was about time I redecorated, it's been almost two months since I moved in. By midnight, the house was a mess and so was I. My back still hurts because I insisted to move the sofa around the living room and find the perfect setting for the bookshelves. By 2 am, I had scrubbed and polished every inch of the apartment. I was pretty content with the result, so I moved on to doing the laundry. Big mistake. One hour later, my kitchen was practically flooded and in the morning I had some explaining to do in front of my neighbours. I had barely managed to recover after the pipe-changing trauma, and now this. So I called the owner to complain - she's very maternal and seems to have understood I'm not exactly skilled when it comes to house issues, and she sent someone over to look at the washing machine. Turns out it was not just the washing machine, but also the pipes in the kitchen, so as I'm writing these lines, my kitchen is a disaster, I'm in no mood to clean again, my back still hurts but I am very excited about having moved the desk next to the window. I have a splendid view of the Palace of Culture and Science. Tomorrow, some people from the telephone company will come over to fix some cables.
I'm looking forward to seeing what next week has in store for me.
Maybe it's time I painted the walls purple.