i have just spent the past two hours gloriously curled up on the couch, my head lost between the pages of the time travellers wife, despite the fact that i have a whole list of chores glaring at me from the mess ontop of my bed and around my feet as well as the tons of readings and tutorials that are screaming for my attention, and whose voices i am willfully and defiantly ignoring. i'm luxuriating in the silence and emptiness of my home, the coolness that the tiles seem to emit enjoying every moment of being here and now and not having to do anything in particular. i've missed the languid afternoons that seemingly strecth out endlessly before you and time slows to a crawl and the day is presented on a silver platter, a delectable dish to savour.