So its a gloomy monday and I'm sitting in the freezing dub&splice room, listening to Valerie jabber on about radio journalism. I love it, its absolutely awesome, refreshing and insightful. But I am still so tired. Maybe its just cause I'd much rather be lazing in bed, comforter crumpled in a messy, soft heap around my feet, my head on a pillow thats flat from sleep.

And I'll wake up just to slip my feet into my soft white bedroom slippers, patter out to the dining room to freshly baked blueberry muffins and strong aromatic coffee, just a tad bitter. I will relish my muffins with extra fresh berries and a swipe of creamy butter... (A)

And then i waltzed into the kitchen like a ballerina on crack. to the table to the pans, to make coffee and some ham. I sing, I dance, I jump about, like a daisy. So my magic unicorn comes in to greet me, simba be his name, all nice and prissy. He wears a pink ribbon so large, it blocks out the sun. And then sings with me and asks "where is the rum". "its too early to drink" I say, and he whines in protest. He likes the rum with his coffee, something that I detest. (M)

I made my way, into the back room, cup in hand, and a song on my mouth. Something didn't smell right; was it the toast. No wait, maybe it was the perfume - that sickeningly sweet aroma that clinged onto the bathrobe. (A)

i grumbled and mumbled something under my breath and just decided i'll have coffee with soft boiled eggs. so uncle-ish but who cares. hurr. before i knew it, i was late for school. so i gobbled the eggs and coffee (which wasnt the best combi) and then i put on my prettiest dress! (actually rev doesnt really wear dresses? but i wanna see rev in a pretty dress!) okay radio journ beckons!!! (m)