Tuesday, October 30, 2012
how to hibernate like a professional
Our street. Orange.
The clocks have gone back an hour.
This place has been plunged into darkness. 4pm, it's pitch black and while I'm ecstatic to be back in my unAmerican routine (fruit, vegetables, consistent sleep, cheese ban, future thin thighs), it's fucking difficult not to reach for a pie.
It's the kind of darkness that makes you want to eat and cry basically.
But, hark, I shall not regress. I missed England so much when I was in America (it's really weird actually), that I will not break. I am still deciding to LOVE winter this year. With a little help from Waitrose.
On getting back, I was gagging for fresh food and funky tea. So grabbed the Brit and strolled on down to our local Waitrose (which is the better-looking cousin of Woollies), also the more expensive and extensive. Came back with bags of groceries and a smoking credit card.
While New York buys power bars and tinned Spam to fend off "Superstorm Sandy" (Game show host?), I buy this:
A fuckload of tea. And this isn't all of it. Amazeballs, beautiful tea.
A motherlode of bath products. Creams, gels, oils, crystals, bubbles. I consider bathing a hobby like some people consider knitting or gardening a hobby. I take it fucking seriously.
Jelly Belly beans. Typically known for being as addictive as crack (especially the popcorn flavoured ones), but also only have 4 calories a bean. Given I had around 200 beans last night...I'm pretty fucked, aren't I?