Wake up. Contemplate getting up. Look outside. Overcast/raining. Stare at ceiling. Get up.
Make breakfast. Contemplate sitting on kitchen floor. Eat breakfast in bed. Stare at ceiling.
Wash dishes. Wash kitchen counters. Sweep. Get back into bed. Stare at ceiling.
Create masterpieces of wet clothing over central heating. Shower. Get dressed. Get back into bed. Watch DVD. Watch DVD in Dutch with English subtitles. Stare at ceiling.
It's actually not all bad. I go for long walks. I wander up and down the shopping streets. Sometimes, I stare at the people working in the offices across from our flat. I feel like I'm Sophia Coppola movie, without the credits.
I wish I could actually post this on my blog, but I don't have time to figure out the formatting. If I ever get that shirt-folding technique right, then I'll know I've met my calling as a washerwoman. Until then, I shall remain a desperate house-girlfriend.
Me: "Hi... what you doing?"
Mills: "I'm working. At work. What do you think I'm doing?"
Me: "I thought you might be working. When you coming home?"
Mills: "Later. This evening. At the end of the day. What are you doing?"
Me: "Nothing. Literally. I did go shopping. I spent lots of your money."
Mills: "Goodie. What have you spent it all on?"
Me: "Food. I think."
Mills: "You think?"
Me: "Well, I'm really not sure what I actually bought. Do you want Sperziebonen or Prei for supper?"
Such is the scintillating content of my everyday life.