Taking time off of work is always fun. I like arriving back to a big pile on my desk. At least it was a neat pile. Fack. Grrrrrr.
I know I shouldn’t care. I should be grateful to be indoors on a rainy day and to be able to go for lunch with work husband and to have a pirri pirri chicken breast and Gouda sandwich languishing in my belly. I should be grateful I didn’t have any run-ins with people on stilts. That I can rent the “Sex and the City” DVD tonight if I so desire (or, alternatively, I can run my dishwasher and open it mid-cycle for some scintillating and soapy excitement).
In two and half hours I will leave here, go home, work out like a demon, possibly put away my summer clothes and bring out the winter ones cause summer is GONE. I will eat tasty leftovers, drink wine, watch BBC perhaps, and puzzle over why my ex thought it pertinent to illicit a booty call via email a week ago. I may play Sudoku. I could rip the best of CCR into iTunes cause I’m getting sick of some of my running songs. The world is my oyster, I tell you. Shuck it.
Where was I? Oh right: having to do things for money. It boils down to authority. I don’t like to be told what to do. I need to be more pleasant and less argumentative.
So… I should start drinking on the job, I guess.
I know I shouldn’t care. I should be grateful to be indoors on a rainy day and to be able to go for lunch with work husband and to have a pirri pirri chicken breast and Gouda sandwich languishing in my belly. I should be grateful I didn’t have any run-ins with people on stilts. That I can rent the “Sex and the City” DVD tonight if I so desire (or, alternatively, I can run my dishwasher and open it mid-cycle for some scintillating and soapy excitement).
In two and half hours I will leave here, go home, work out like a demon, possibly put away my summer clothes and bring out the winter ones cause summer is GONE. I will eat tasty leftovers, drink wine, watch BBC perhaps, and puzzle over why my ex thought it pertinent to illicit a booty call via email a week ago. I may play Sudoku. I could rip the best of CCR into iTunes cause I’m getting sick of some of my running songs. The world is my oyster, I tell you. Shuck it.
Where was I? Oh right: having to do things for money. It boils down to authority. I don’t like to be told what to do. I need to be more pleasant and less argumentative.
So… I should start drinking on the job, I guess.
1 comment:
A fresh playlist is the way to go. I had a great new one I created last night and had my new earphones (the kind you recommended) and my run at the gym this morning was a hoot. Nobody knew I was listening to RuPaul and the Go-Go's. But I ran like 10 mph (well on the eliptical). It was a hoot!
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