We hope the "real" person behind the words will be revealed as ignominiously as a shapeless snail without its shapely shell.
It is 12:39 AM.
I am in the basement, using the newly fixed computer. It has an overly massive screen for some reason. And blogspot doesn't work the same way, which means I spent half an hour after finishing my last post just trying to organise the photos, then I gave up.
I am catching up on HCD between looking at election results and feeling nervous.
My hair is freshly dyed, but I'm letting it air dry so I'm not sure what colour it is. More orange than red by the looks of things.
I am drinking caffeinated green tea with mint and resisting the temptation to go make strawberry jelly.
My brain is fuzzy from a seriously long day of end of year French writing exams, election results and jogging.
I spent many dollars today on lovely smelling products, including a moisturiser that makes me smell like a giant, walking, talking (blogging!) blob of marzipan.
The heating is off. My hands are cold.
Only 130 seats left to go...