February 17, 2010
…the smell of the air moments before it start to drizzle.
…the smell of coffee in the morning (and the afternoon, and the evening, for that matter).
…the three o’clock coffee with my mother, where she talks and I nod occasionally (I now know the origin of my lack of making-small-talk skill).
…that the cafeteria waiter knows I always ask to replace the milo in my milo-oreo with coffee.
…that the supermarket check-out girl knows I don’t want separate bags for my bread, fruit and/or toiletries.
…to have a cup of coffee with old friends for two hours, and catch up.
…to make fun of people. But only occasionally. Really.
…to take pictures.
…to have mood swings.
…to never leave home.
But then I remember what it’s like living with my parents.
(Not that I don’t love them)