Room 507, Tuesday morning
Nadia was curled up under her blanket with her head under her pillow again, though this time she wasn't hungover.
Just thinking.
After lying awake for a long time, staring at . . . well, her pillowcase, what with her pillow over her head, she came to a decision.
Yes, her boyfriend was leaving to go fight in WWII and possibly never ever come back. That didn't mean she was going to be one of those mopey war widow types who wore black for the next fifty years and built monuments and generally acted like an emo idiot. She'd be one of those strong, support the effort from home types like that chick in the "we can do it!" poster.
Step one for that would be to get her ass out of bed and start enjoying her day. Her very carefully not emo day. Absolutely no emo allowed. Just fun.
Which meant no thinking. She could do that.
She jumped up and started sorting through her clothes for a good, non-emo outfit to wear. Because sometimes, happiness started in the clothes.
[ooc: open]
Just thinking.
After lying awake for a long time, staring at . . . well, her pillowcase, what with her pillow over her head, she came to a decision.
Yes, her boyfriend was leaving to go fight in WWII and possibly never ever come back. That didn't mean she was going to be one of those mopey war widow types who wore black for the next fifty years and built monuments and generally acted like an emo idiot. She'd be one of those strong, support the effort from home types like that chick in the "we can do it!" poster.
Step one for that would be to get her ass out of bed and start enjoying her day. Her very carefully not emo day. Absolutely no emo allowed. Just fun.
Which meant no thinking. She could do that.
She jumped up and started sorting through her clothes for a good, non-emo outfit to wear. Because sometimes, happiness started in the clothes.
[ooc: open]