That Middle of the Week Feeling

I've always been a hoarder, mainly because I'm so stupidly sentimental about so many things. That explains my reluctance to throw anything out just now - the shrivelled up flowers I bought Katka as a welcome home present still sit in a glass vase to the left of the stereo, the clothes she wore on her last day here exactly four weeks ago - red pants and a sky blue and grey hooded jumper - lie crumpled on the floor in front of the wardrobe, and about the last thing I see before I go to sleep is a picture she painted in the week before I got back from China. I'm still not sure if she hung it there as a goodbye present, though I like it more than most of the other gifts she gave me while we were together. I am, however, sure that the first thing I'll eventually get rid of is the plate we smashed outside on the driveway at the start of our wedding reception. It's a Czech wedding custom, each broken piece representing one year of happy life together. Looking back, we'd have been better off dropping it on the sofa.