Peanut butter and jam sandwitches.

Yes, witches.

Well no, not really. Just the normal wich-kind.

Anywho.

In a couple of hours I should be heading towards a friend's place, spending the night there, and then the next morning the both of us heading toward our respective homes for xmas. So I need to have packed everything with me when heading off in a couple of hours, and I'm sure I'll forget something vital, and not realise till two minutes before the train leaves tomorrow.

Such is life.

Been wondering. Should I try and make this interesting to people in some way, or be brutally honest about my uneventful and boring life?

Or maybe I'm making this boring on purpose. Believe you me, reader (yet to get any actually, but I'll pretend you're there, makes my life easier), I've witnessed and been involved in such relationship dramas that could fuel the likes of Bold and the Beautiful, OC or any other such series for seasons to come.

But not only would I be revealing things other people might not want revealing, even if I'd change names, I've also gone through the people, events and issues so many times I doubt that typing them out once more would do anyone any good.

Unless I suddenly get billions of gossip-hungry readers dying to know the details of a complete stranger, I might budge something.

The future clouded is, yes.

With my sandwitch consumed I am left with a craving for tea. Lipton Yellow Label all the way, baby. No milk, no sugar. Let infuse for a while, I like it strong.

Ttfn my dear (imagined) reader, ttfn.