Tuesday, 26 February 2013 22:01
For the past three weeks I have been staying at a friends house in South Hedland. There are three of us at the moment.. Leah, myself and the cat. The cat doesn't really have a name and I've actually forgotten if it's a boy or girl. You see, I'm highly allergic to the feline variety so my love for them is not as high as my love for dogs. On my first night at Leah's I proceeded to go to bed, watch part of a movie, then stop breathing. This was most frustrating, but more so embarrassing and stressful (where would I sleep if not inside her house... accommodation is ridiculously expensive.)
Anyhow, I figured out how to breath again.. a new bed was found, not in air conditioned comfort, the source of the spreading cat hair, but near a window. The next day I rocked up at the emergency ward (welcome to Hedland!) and was prescribed steriods, five tablets, one per day. Ahhhhh??!!
Five days passed and I very tentatively expanded my occupancy in the house to the kitchen. (Please note I was out and about during the day, not camped out the the tiny bedroom..) It is here I have spent most of my time. Cat prancing nearby, me making muesli and yoghurt.
So I dedicate this post to kitchens. The centre and heart of any house. And my new found sanctury.