I'm in a mood that I can't describe. Maybe because I don't know what it is. I sort of feel... like I have so much to do, but I don't know where to start. Like I need to begin something that I know I will enjoy doing, but something is holding me back. Maybe a bit overwhelmed. I don't know exactly what it is that I'm trying to do, however.
Aside from that generally meaningless couple of lines, it's been a bit of an eventful day. At work we all got evacuated because one of the cafe's in the centre caught fire in their kitchen. So that was a little bit exciting, at least until we realised that it was for real. It's not a nice feeling when it's not just a drill. I've never been in an evacuation that wasn't just a trial or a false alarm before. But no one was hurt, and it didn't spread, so we were back inside pretty quickly. Although the smell or burning oil and goodness knows what else from the kitchen isn't nice.
I also burnt my leg on some lids at work. I now have three bright red patches on my right calf, and they STING. The boys burn themselves all the time and claim they're alright... they must have some crazy bakers-only thick skin or something. Or maybe they're just trying to be tough.
I went shopping (well, op shopping) for the first time in ages today. I'm really trying to save money. I bought a lovely grey mens waistcoat that is just a little too big so it hangs nicely, and an excellent long sleeved brown and white print dress. I love it how you can tell the age of something just by looking at the label. Faded, 60s and 70s fonts, 'of sydney/london/paris'... so sweet. I might dress Audrey up later for some snaps.
Clotilde Hesme (left) is the epitome of everything I love about Europe and Paris. Jess and I went to the French Film Festival last night and saw Love Songs.
While we're at it, Alexandra Maria Lara is so beautiful in Anton Corbijn's Control. It is such an excellent movie too. Depressing, but very, very good. There is this one scene where the band picks her up by the ocean, and she is wearing this long black trench coat... it's one of my favourite scenes in any film, ever.
1. How much I don't like having to eat the yoguhrt at the bottom/on the sides of the tub. Is that weird? Come to think of it, I don't like butter from those spots either. It's not that it tastes different, just that its like... the remnants. Or something.