Once again, I had sweet cravings but there was nothing sweet- tasting in my home. And I couldn’t go visit my parents to feast in their kitchen, not until after my HoivaOnni worker had visited me.
To put it this way, I felt like I was a stubbed- out cigarette lying in a murky puddle.
Later the afternoon my HoivaOnni worker came over, I managed to wash the dishes but not iron the laundry, and I also didn’t wash the forks, spoons, or knives. I might do it later.
We agreed to meet again next Friday at half past one o’clock in the afternoon. After she left, I decided to go visit my parents. I called my mother and told her I am coming over, she said she had gone for a walk but my father was home.
I took a bus to my parents’ home. I made coffee and ate some of the foreign cookies my father had brought from his holiday at the Canary Islands.
Later the day, about at five o’clock in the evening, I walked back home. I felt very light and easy, and I felt like spring had already sprung.
Mom had given me some allowance, so I bought a box of porridge flakes, a carton of milk, and a package of decaffeinated coffee.