Up and Down like a Bride's Nightie.

I walked to university this morning through the park, and I had a huge smile on my face because my life is fucking awesome. After I got home I had a half hour snooze this afternoon (up until one finishing readings, well past my bed time) then I went downstairs to cook my dinner and make a cup of tea. Sanjukta came home and was playing the radio loudly in her room, and I was singing along in all my glorious so-far-out-of-tune-its-frightening way, and this corny old Elton John song came on, "Daniel". So I'm chopping up cauliflower with a big lump in my throat, thinking about my parents who are miles away in NZ, and how we used to listen to Elton John when we were kids going on car journeys. Then I take the rubbish out, cos its Tuesday, and I run upstairs to get my slippers, cos its cold outside. And then I'm really fucking happy because my slippers are awesome, and well they just make me happy. They are Moo Boots, of course they would. And then I'm washing the dishes and Sting is coming from Sanjukta's room and I get sad because my sister loves Sting and I miss her. Then I remember its Tuesday and House is on tonight and I'm happy again. Then I remember I have one more reading to go before I can relax, and I'm sad. Then I come upstairs and put Shihad* on and I'm happy again. Then Portishead comes on and I'm sad. Then Jeff Buckley comes on and I have to skip that track or else I'll cry. Now I'm listening to Hole's "Doll Parts" and thinking I should probably get back to my reading before all this music does my loaf.
Hormones, anyone?
Right. Back to it then.

*When they were still good, before all this Pacifier crap