5:11 p.m.

I eat blood oranges in plain yogurt with honey on the sunny spot of my couch. Turned slightly, I catch the mauve tones of the blooming redbud out my window.

Mid-morning light

Redbud. If only I cleaned my windows more.

After breakfast, I decide it is a bright red lipstick day. Bright red lipstick looks smashing with denim shirts over black Audrey Hepburn cigarette pants and a messy bun high-atop my head. I do some work, and despite the low height of the couch compared to the Parsons coffee table, it is worth it to sit near a sunny window and listen to Francoise Hardy, who reminds me that my eyebrows are looking a little too French lately, and so I make an appointment to have them looked after. They can't fit me in UNTIL TUESDAY!

Old lipstick, and NO, I will not show you the state of my eyebrows.

Though it is expensive and unfortunate, today is also a good day to get locked out of my house and wait for the locksmith, a very well-fragranced man named Tom Devine, who didn't pick a lock at all. Instead he climbed in through the window, and let me in.

I learn my lesson. I have a spare key made, buy new red lipstick and buy more yogurt and spinach.

Then, 4:21 rolls around, and I think of my grandparents, who drink a martini every day at 4:21. I don't have anything to make a martini, so I make a gin and tonic. It is a tad strong, and I realize I have not eaten enough today. Then I apply my new red lipstick, which will also look smashing with my vintage swing dress that I'll put on later.

Sorry, Hans. But, I adore you and the Serpentine and this book so much I've read it twice. I think that warrants using it as a plate for delicious happy hour snacks.

New lipstick. Still no eyebrows. You would quit reading this blog if you knew the truth.