Today you were supposed to come with me inside the castle of Norway’s royal family, but due to bad planning on my part you’ll hear about a miracle instead. We’ll just make it Museum Monday tomorrow.
Yesterday turned out to be a really good day, though it started off rather pearshaped with me not getting out of bed until…very late. I planned making a day out of it in town, first visiting the castle, then the fashion exhibit at DOGA, followed by a juicy burger at Døgnvill.
When I couldn’t get a ticket for the castle, I decided to postphone all plans until Sunday, until 30 minutes later my hamburger cravings got totally out of hand. It was a gorgeous day outside — I mean really warm and sunny, the best summer day we’ve had in weeks — and I knew I was just meant to be wolfing down an IPA and a hamburger in the sunshine, not sitting inside planning for Oslo Fashion Week. So off I went on the bus with my camera in hand.
At Aker Brygge, my friend Lise joined me and we had a mini pubcrawl in the area, going from Døgnvill to a very hot corner of Bølgen & Moi, then off to the breezy rooftop bar at The Thief. By the time I got back home I was in a pretty happy mood. Then, as soon as I crossed my doorstep, a ginormous miracle happened.
I felt the urge to clean.
To put this into perspective for those of you who don’t know me: I hate to clean. My mum hates to clean. There is absolutely no trace of Monica Geller in anyone in our family. We clean our house because we have to — we don’t want to die a slow and disgusting death — and we love a clean house. We’d just prefer it if, like magic, the house cleaned itself or if someone else cleaned it for us, completely free of charge, of course. Because we are a bit stingy, too. Filthy and stingy, that’s the Kallestads. You can smell us a mile away. Just kidding. Or am I?
Anyway. Now I had these completely unfamiliar feelings about cleaning to deal with. At first I tried to ignored them. Then it hit me: I HAD to take advantage of the situation, as this might be the only time in my life that I’d actually like the process of cleaning my flat. It’d be a fond memory to look back on later: “Do you remember that Saturday when I really felt the urge to clean after three drinks? Haha, those were the days, my friend! A true miracle it was.”
An hour and a half later and my flat was spotless, including the containers that store my bath products in the shower and the brush heads for my Clarisonic. And I was still in a great mood.
I still can’t explain what happened, but I sure hope “the urge” hits me again next week. Maybe there’s a new drug going around town and somebody spiked my prosecco at The Thief?!? Or maybe the trick is to have a couple of drinks first to get you in “the mood”? I’ve always thought they meant a completely different (and more fun…) kind of mood when they said that, but maybe people’ve been refering to cleaning all along. Maybe nothing is what it seems…
So how’s your weekend so far? Any miracles to report on?
Before I sign off, let us not forget that I’m wearing an outfit: A pretty day called for a pretty blouse, matched with my rose pink shorts (which finally fit again. Hurrah!) and pale pink sandals. Dressing in the summer can be so easy when you don’t have to deal with layering. Shorts + top + shoes and you’re good to go. And a handbag to carry everything but the kitchen sink.
Culture printed top (similar, similar) // H&M rose shorts (similar) // Stafford pale pink sandals // Botkier green handbag // Komono golden watch // Snø of Sweden golden earrings // Edblad brass bangle and ring
Prettier than the bee’s knees… Moving slower than the photographer!
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