...AND I'm spent

Back home now. The flight from Gatwick was a bit late leaving and I was sweating BULLETS when we got back to Oslo, as if I didn't catch the last train I was in for one helluvan expensive taxi ride to get home. (Like, REALLY expensive.) Luckily I managed to catch the exact last Flytoget (The Airport Train) and was home by 2am. Tired. Oh so tired.

Fell asleep and was awakened in the afternoon by the fire alarms going off in the building. Hotfooted (coldfooted, actually, as I neglected shoes or coat) it into the lobby where a bunch of very good looking, tall guys in uniform took one look at me (pillow lines running from forehead to neck, hair on end, makeup not where it was originally applied and pajamas a mishmash of whatever was closest to grab when I got home) and told me to relax, it was just a test, go back to bed. Me? Vain? Nah. Then I realized I was up too late to even call in sick to work, I mean, calling in at 1pm seems a bit too late, so I just went back to bed and figured I would deal with it tomorrow.

I'll tell you what, I feel OLD today. OLD and UGLY. I am at a low ebb. Day Two. Headache, tired body, tired soul. Plum tuckered out. I had a nice time in London, I really did, but I also felt out of sorts and like I was searching for something, but what that something was I am not sure.

I thought I wanted an "It" bag, and I checked out all the usual stores where one would go for such a thing. But, I just can't allow myself to spend that much on something that really is only meant to hang on your arm and announce its price. I would, (and could!) I guess, if there was one I REALLY liked, but they all are too MUCH, too many pockets and buckles and furry bits and shiny bits and I just don't need my bag to announce how valuable I am to the world. It's like the feminine equivalent of the man who buys the Ferrari, and I really just don't feel like I have that much to prove. I appreciate good quality and will pay for it, but I don't need some designer's name stamped all over the place to prove I can appreciate it. I instead got a really nice olive green leather hobo bag at the Gap for 55 pounds. I just like nice soft leather and a good shape, you know? So no "It" bag for Karla.

I had a nice meal or two, saw my exhibit at the V&A, wandered about and saw my favorite things, but sort of felt restless and stressed, like I was meant to be doing more than I was. I certainly wasn't sleeping. I wasn't really finding anything in the shops I wanted. (I returned the velvet skirt I bought, I just didn't need it. Never fear, though, as I got a pair of ROCKIN' velvet trousers at Cos instead. Much more practical, and black, and WASHABLE.) I might, actually, be shopped out. I might, actually, have been there and done that AND bought the t shirt. So....now what?

I think I miss my husband, also. Damn that large lump of man. would have been nice to go to a pub or three with him. He's back from his work trip tomorrow. It'll be good to see him. Until, that is, he asks, "What's for dinner?'