The sky's perfect for shopping. Perfect for a picnic. Perfect for a day at the pool. Blue. Cloudy. Perfect.
But I'm here, stuck in bed. I'm so sick of being tired and sick of being sick! The best time to be sick is during the typhoon, because either way you'd still be on your beloved bed. Right now, I'm not wanting this bed.
I'm wanting the Manikins, the flowing scarves, the leather shoes, the jaw-breaking dresses, the colorful walls, the cement floor, the attacked-by-makeup saleswomen, the bored clerks, and the female guard at the entrance who touches your butt. I'm sorry; am I too young to be a shopaholic?
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