Typewriter II


So, here we are... weeks later. The verdict fell: there is nothing to do about my beautiful typewriter. It has to go. In words of my father it is "beyond repair". I'm sad, quite sad. I'm giving it back tomorrow.

I don't want to replace it right away, like it didn't even matter to me but I do want to get on with it. While Erika was with me I was so much more inspired, maybe it was her beautiful mustard-yellow colour. Maybe it was the noise she made when I stroked her (not so delicately I might add). Maybe it was because she was my first.

I may be a romantic after all.

My mother says I should be buying an Olivetti but I always preferred Germans to Italians (if I offend somebody I don't really care). So I'm in an impasse. Any recommendations?

On another note, I'm still searching for a flat and there is still no luck. I hate house hunting. I don't understand how some people do it as a hobby.

By the way, did you try and do a good thing the other day? Did it work? I maintained the good attitude the whole week, all of you should have taken advantage of this.

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