woodface

At 9am the mailman woke up. Somewhere in my brain the connection had been made between a package I was expecting and the doorbell ringing. So I actually bother to get up and open the door (my mom wasn't home). The mailman - not our usual mailman but a younger version on a motorcycle - saw my state of dress (read: pj's way too big and messy hair but then it's always like that) and started apologising profusedly. My still sleepy brain went "no worries" and eyed the package longingly. After getting rid of the still apologising mailman, I start opening the package when I realise something. It actually say "the Netherlands" on there. I'm not expecting post from the Netherlands. Maybe a long lost penpal? More curious, I hurry up my tearing of the envelope. I get out the note and realise it's signed by my mom's friends. Hang on. Back up there. I go read the envelope again. Oops, mail for my mom. Not for me. Sleepy Jara closes the envelope again and goes back to bed.

( Yaaaaay! Sleep! NOT. )

Then the telephone rings, I wake up and answer; it's Kurt. He is going to the Finn Brothers with me in april. Yaaaaaay! An said she will buy the tickets for us either tomorrow or on saturday as she has to be in Brussels anyway and it's a bit safer than having them send it to me in the post. An also agreed on going to Bridget Jones with me before I leave on my trip if my sis plays hard to get. Yaaaaaay!

But dude, I really need to start having normal dreams because I really didn't like this one. *whimpers*

Thinks I am currently pondering about.