One morning in February I had just got out of bed, my alarm failed to go off that morning and I was meant to meet my Boyfriend at our favourite coffee haunt in the centre of Christchurch where we both live. I called him "Honey I'm so sorry I'm late, I will be there, gimme an hour ok?", He was there already waiting for me, and as usual he was his sweet self and told me not to worry as he was deep into a book anyway so to take my time. I went to change in my room at our 100 year old flat. Then I heard a loud rumble and all of a sudden things started falling.
One thing that really gets me angry is when other people try to tell you how to live your life, especially when you are just plodding along harmlessly, not entirely in the mainstream and so it is decided that there is either a) something wrong with you mentally or b) you are some rebellious naive young girl who will eventually grow to love the white picket fence.
Wow it has been a while.
What I want to know is who invented this grand scale of social achievement which really, I must say, does nothing for me.