We're flat broke but hey we do it in style

Revising the week in my head, and leaving the weekend behind. Snow and ice, falling down twice (ha, that rhymed), weird dreams that make me smile in the morning and too much talks about things I don't understand. Too many people ask me how have I been doing (too many times that I needed to go through the same explanations of how it's alright now - or at least much better); too many people who told me how lovely I look (also, my eyes and my hair; my legs (really?)), many many little words that made me smile.

The past three days I've kept on going back to that dream, and I don't know why. I remember it vividly - unhealthily good. I don't normally do this - dreams should stay hidden under the blankets, but i can't help but smile at the lovely blue everything, and our clothes, and all those little situations that will (probably) never happen but were like fresh air anyway.

Other small things that made me smile: making paper snowflakes that I will stick in my room; the news that I'll be all alone in this flat for several weeks; Carlota's talking about condoms (and in that sense: Tim Westwood/pretty much everyone with a bit of sense taking the piss out of JLS on Never Mind the Buzzcocks about their condoms); listening to long-forgotten songs; spending a good amount of time around books; picking up presents and making cards; this (it's funny, and it makes me imagine my room full of playpen balls).

BRMC is tomorrow. I spent about a month thinking it was Saturday.