Unproductive Day

Today is another unproductive day by my standards. I could have done at least something, anything that has a significant amount of benefits, but NO - I did not do anything at all. Hence, the term UNPRODUCTIVE. So, as I sit UNPRODUCTIVELY at my table, I started to day-dream (which I do so often now and then) about a lot of stuff. First thing that comes to mind is about the upcoming practical exams - how I wished that the hospital was blown away by the chilly autumn wind so that I do not have to take that exam. Or I could polymorph the examiner into a monkey.

 Then suddenly I thought of the nice lavender pashmina scarf I saw last Sunday in Terranova. Oh and also the other black arab scarf. Only 399 roubles each item! Should I buy it or not? I need to spice up my wardrobe for this season - are scarves the right choice? Or perhaps I should find a new trench coat? Hmm. Yet to find the latter. Sigh~

[Oh purple pashmina scarf, how I adore you...how I long for you to be wrapped around my neck and draped across my chest...]

[Oh black Arab scarf, how I adore thee as well! The rough but warm feeling of you around me is so inviting, how I want you to be among my most adored items!]

Enough shopping for me if I wanted to enjoy myself in Central Europe in the winter. I hope I can contain my shopping urges until then. But, its HARD - argh, NOOOOOO!

Then as I stared at my wall, I realized how cluttered it was with ALL KINDS OF STUFF I collected from all around the world; postcards, shopping tags, pictures, a bronze athletics medal - all arranged around my prized lucky Adidas poster. In a way it looked somehow creative, colorful and messy - which practically screams ME. No wonder my friends said that just by looking at my wall and my table, people can really REALLY judge who am I. Hey- I thought judging others was a sin?

[Just a small portion of my personal paraphernalia on the table. Spray, mousse, cream, gel, gum, wax, clay...you name it I've got them all! Just look at the amount of chemicals that I load upon my hair. If they had voices, they'd probably be screaming their roots off by now.]

Oh crap. When will I be freed from non-productivity?