Getting in touch with my inner 4-year-old

My sun-deprived batteries fully charged after 7 hours spent outdoors in glorious sunshine yesterday, I'm in a great pre-weekendish mood. In case you're curious, yours truly had to entertain the crowds as an origami (that's the Japanese art of paper-folding, btw) instructor and take pictures of the other "attractions" at the 4th cherry blossom festival (minor detail: the buds were still firmly closed, but never mind) at Donauinsel, Danube Island. Unlike my boss, who suffered a mild sun-stroke (no joke), I had generously applied (anti-aging, no less) sun lotion, vividly remembering my tomato-red face after the festival '04. Anyway, it definitely was a welcome change from sitting in my stuffy office all day.

Today in my lunch-break I bought something which boosted my mood some more: "days of the week undies", which I had last worn in my kindergarten days. I can still remember the irritation at my mum if she failed to wash the whole batch in time and I had to wear, say, a "Monday" on a Thursday. The horror! Now that I am mistress of my own washing mashine (yes, the infamous mobile-phone-killing-Gorenje) embarrassments in the lingerie department should be a thing of the past and I'll be able to impress (or disgust, depending) the ladies in the changing room of Stadthallenbad with the correct pant de jour next Monday. Can't wait.

My colour-preferences obviously haven't matured much since kindergarden, either as I'm still quite partial to pink. Aaah, just one of the reasons why I'm glad I'm not a man and can openly act out my tackiest, most girlish fantasies...