Time spent outside today: 45 seconds

That's alright isn't it? I wonder if there is some sort of guideline for when you can officially call yourself a recluse? And are you a recluse by choice or is it like a sort of disease inflicted upon you? What's the difference between a recluse and a hermit? Severity? Hermit sounds way classier, I must admit, but I think the fact that I'm not living alone sort of disqualifies me, no? Need to research this...

Sitting on the couch at the moment, drinking some red wine and eating a bag of Haigh's dark chocolate covered almonds that fiancé forgot in my bag. I hope he keeps forgetting, there won't be many left by the time he gets home.

Dinner dilemma was put to rest last night after fiancé called and was told I still had no idea. His proposal was that he'd call and order pizza from Pinocchio's and then pick it up on his way home. It almost brought a tear to my eye. Pinocchio's has beautiful pizza, my favourite is called "Genoa" and comes loaded with pesto, roasted peppers, goats cheese and (if you want) proscuitto. Lovely. Today however I'm not counting on such luck. Due to my not-leaving-the-house-other-than-to-get-mail stint I haven't really picked up any groceries, so it looks like today is pasta-bake day. Yes. Very exciting. Watch this space...