Confession
I have a confession to make. Maybe it ought to be filed in the "quirky-me-never"-post but here goes. I love to windowshop. "So what, K, who doesn't? What's the big deal?". Well. I love to windowshop in supermarkets and I often do it at lunchtime when I have an hour to kill (I never actually lunch at one, I'm always starving earlier). So I wander idly to the nearest supermarket; I work pretty much in the center of the city, so I have enough of a choice as to not get bored. I love the lights, the silence (at least in the lunchhour), I love the fact that it is almost empty and I love the scents of food, the wonderful displays that are *so* abundant. And then I wander around in the lit aisles, taking my time and listening to whatever's on my Ipod and dream. I see the transparently lavender cuttle fish in the fish-market and I dream of cutting it up in paper-thin tagliatelle, drizzle with new olive oil and eat it raw with a big pinch of the sea-weed flav...