From the flu to a mysterious puffy face, I appear to still be in the midst of the wars. I have straight up no idea what's going on in the face department, but considering I don't have any allergies I'm entertaining the option that it may have something to do with anxiety or stress. As such, I have set about combating that by drawing upon the most stress-free environment I can think of: A hotel.
In hotels you don't have to worry about anything; everything you need is within reach and anything you don't is out of sight, if it's there at all. All you have to do is watch TV or read or sleep, and everything is clean and comfortable. You know the deal. It's like a mini-vacation from your life, where you don't actually have to do anything. As long as it's a nice hotel. And I always make sure it is. Shoutout to booking.com. In any case, I'm pretty sure I've brought this up before, because dang do I love hotels.
The two places that come to mind first when I try and pick a favourite are the Four Seasons on Sydney Harbour and the Hilton near Fiumicino Airport in Rome. I had two of the most relaxing nights ever at that Hilton - one following a few weeks of trekking around Europe, before I met up with the boys, and one after I left them, before I flew home - and the main thing that I associate with that sense of calm was the bed. God bless high quality hotel beds. It was massive and took up half the room, which meant there was plenty of room for activities, as well as the necessary sprawling. There was something about that room that made me feel simultaneously productive and relaxed, and to be honest looking at my own bed now I feel like I might have subconsciously been trying to recreate that. Won't complain though, as it ended up being extremely convenient for today's theme.
Back to the present, once I decided to hotel it up I made my bed and cleared away all the clutter. After that, I gathered my essentials (laptop, book, tea), moved the TV in from the living room (what's a hotel room without a TV?) and put on a pyjama-outfit which I now realise is quite resemblant of Cameron Diaz in The Holiday when she's dancing around to The Killers with her wine. As that has been one of my aesthetic goals for quiet some time, I would just quickly like to congratulate myself on this.
Since then I've been attempting to relax, watching movies (and Once Upon A Time, with which I am currently re-obsessed) and holding various cold objects on different areas of my face. Good times, great classic hits. I just finished watching Under The Tuscan Sun and all that's really done is make me wish I were a middle-aged divorcee because in movies they always seem to get to run off to Italy. Just like Keats. Lucky bastard. Granted, he went for the Winter to try and get away from the English cold because he had tuberculosis and ended up dying, but still. A girl can dream.
Now I have important business to attend to, namely the next few episodes of Once Upon A Time, so I shall leave you here for today. Please pray for my face to de-puff itself because it's not bad enough to be obvious that something's wrong, it just looks kind of chubz and that is not ideal for filming videos/generally living my life. God bless Captain Hook, he's so precious in this scene that's happening right now and he also reminds me so much of George I want to pull him out of the show and cuddle him. I very much miss George. I miss his little face. I miss his guinea pig laugh. I wish to stroke his hair and tell him he's pretty. I tell him this often. I love my son.
And that's my cue to exit.
