I crawled into bed early (by my standards, at least) last night because I found it way too ridiculous to be trembling on my couch watching a comedy called "Thank You For Smoking".
And I was actually rather looking forward to bedtime (do you ever get that feeling?) anyway, since I had some awesome Beijing health massage session earlier in the afternoon, where the missy impressed me by commenting I must have been having horrible sleep as she pressed/rubbed/tortured the most bits of my neck/shoulder/head. She couldn't have been more right than those damned fortune tellers.
But still, I woke up in the middle of the night. Because one of my socks had slipped off.
It is that fucking cold.
This is ridiculous. I really wish the cold will go away soon, because for one, I am getting really sick of having to wear so many clothes at one time - whether I'm in or out of the house. And most of all, I really don't want to have to sit on my hands and shiver while I struggle to keep my attention on the television.
"Chilling out at home" wasn't meant to be like this when I decided upon it.
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