Let’s begin with the phrase “I hate Sundays”. After the family breakfast, tiding up and checking the weekly plan I have usually felt something what female librarians might feel (but not me).
I went to the shop for getting the phone case. I didn’t catch the moment when my negligence of outlook invased the routine. I have the worn out three years white fabric bag which is typically dirty, then the red jacket which has three years experience too as well as distressing. The boots and shorts have less practice – only two years. But the blouse what I inaccurately torn today has a great story of four years of trips, lessons and painting study. These all including my typically greasy hair was shown at the big mirror of the chip trading house. It’s not the first day I realise my displeasure of outlook .
The truth is that I have burrowed so deep into the study that I don’t go out at all, I don’t see more people than my mom, grandma and the cat. It was the museum night yesterday but I had got only at night itself. So I hadn’t been in more different company.
I do write this all because of the fact that when I came to the cosmetic shop I was confused. It seemed so hard and boring to look for something among shelves alone in the worn suit. (I found out that better creams are expensive) This is kind of crisis in privite life. Actually this morning mom said me it time to get a boy. What can I say? Of course it’s time. I still cannot make out how girls manage to combine privite and professional life. It is a puzzle for me.