With The Man away the past week I have hurled myself into the abyss of domesticity with wanton abandon.
So relieved to be in an environment in which sweat, flies and hand-washed laundry is no longer par for the course, the mundane has not lost its lustre.
I give it two more days.
But, mercifully, there is an upside to this new found love of all things home: my room is finally cleared and unpacked after months of procrastination; I can see the original color of my carpet and walk without crackles underfoot; and I have debuted into the realm of cup-cakedom.
Personally, I think they are ugly as sin, but my flatmates have declared them a success.
And as one of them is a particularly skilful baker, this is pretty awesome praise.
I is a baker. ‘Tis official.