What I Hated the Least Today 226/365: Pill Box

Home for my pills
Home for my pills

All I wanted for Christmas was a pill organiser and a kitten. (I always want a kitten but I never get it, owing to the disapproval of my current cat as much as to the fact that Amazon doesn’t ship live kittens.) However, a kind friend to whom I kept on complaining how I keep on forgetting my meds took pity on me and gifted me a rainbow pill box. (I hate rainbows, but I love the rainbow pill box.)

A pill box is a must when you take more meds than you can count on the fingers of your hand in different combinations at different times of day and night. It’s a pity that the pill box doesn’t have an inbuilt alarm to notify me that it’s time to get high, but at least I can clearly see if I’ve taken my meds already or not. Also, it’s a rather awesome pop of colour in my somewhat bleak home existence. Getting high was never so much fun.

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What I Hated the Least Today 225/365: Real Story

Snowed in
Snowed in

I brought home snow

On my coat—

It melted

On the floor

Within seconds.

What I Hated the Least Today 224/365: Yoga Pants Radius

Real pants, as opposed to yoga pants
Real pants, as opposed to yoga pants

Do you have a yoga pants radius around your home too? Or a sweatpants or underpants radius, or whatever it is that you wear at home?

A yoga pants radius is defined as an area encircling your home where you judge it to be alright to walk around in yoga pants as opposed to normal pants. Like your home, it’s an area where you don’t feel the need to be presentable.

My yoga pants radius has about 300 metres in diameter and includes: the postbox, the bins, the nearest petrol pump station and the nearest supermarket. It also includes a hospital, a pub and a tenement sprawl, none of which I frequent.

I hate changing clothes and I hate the time it takes to make myself presentable, hence I appreciate my cleverness in setting up a yoga pants radius. Also, I’m perfectly entitled to wear yoga pants because a) I actually practise yoga, twice a day, b) I’m skinny, hence can afford to wear tight-fitting clothes in public.

Otherwise I’m meticulous to take care of my appearance before I venture out of my yoga pants radius. I deem it common decency to transform myself from a wild cat lady in a hairband and torn shirt (because cat) into a regular person fit to be seen by others. That much to my defence, in case I need one.