Hot Baths and Low Expectations

 


Today was a cleaning day. I went full domestic mode; wiping, dusting, organising, and making sure everything was spik and span. Well… almost everything. I didn’t get round to mopping or hoovering, but let’s not get caught up in technicalities. The flat looks fresh, and that’s what counts.


After all that effort, I treated myself to a hot bath, the kind that makes you question whether you’re slowly boiling or just deeply relaxed. It was lovely. This whole “no work” thing? Surprisingly decent. I actually get to enjoy the flat I pay for, rather than just sleep in it and trip over laundry on the way to the kettle.


Still no word from the job I interviewed for. I’m in that weird limbo where silence could mean anything. So I’ve decided to assume I didn’t get it. That way, if I do, it’ll be a pleasant surprise. And if I don’t, I’ll already be emotionally prepared. It’s a win-win. Sort of.
For now, I’m clean, calm, and mildly unemployed. Not the worst way to spend a Monday.

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