I am turning into quite the sporadic poster here. For which I apologise. …actually, I don’t. There will be no apologies! Damn the apologies! Damn them all to hell! Do I seem overwrought? I don’t feel overwrought. Apart from the bone-aching tiredness and the working and the travelling and the cold sore. Mmm, cold sore. My favourite form of herpes. (OK I am going to shut up now. Also, I don’t think it’s a cold sore, more a pimple just above my lip which has become malevolent and doubled in size. I think it may be sentient. Don’t tell it I’m talking about it.)
I have been to the Barossa this week, which is a wine region in South Australia. It was a lovely part of the country, also, the wine was a definite plus. Work conferences always go that little bit better with unlimited wine. Still, now I am back and to celebrate I bought a steam mop. Let’s get this party started.
Also, I went to Borders to buy a book and an Anne Geddes calendar (I CAN EXPLAIN, DON’T PRESS THE X, I CAN MAKE IT UP TO YOU, I SWEAR), and ended up walking up to pay with about five books. (I have new bookcases. which MUST BE FILLED.) Anyway. The guy behind the counter looked at me consideringly, then leaned across the counter and murmered, “Tomorrow we have 20% off everything. Would you like me to put these aside for you?” I promptly replied, “Certainly! I was not at all considering buying these! Please hide them behind the counter!” Score. Oh yeah, and the calendar. Look, it’s not about the babies. I can take or leave babies. Usually I leave them, which makes things easier for everyone. However, of all the small format calendars, this was the only one where the calendar bit goes Monday to Sunday. All the other calendars go Sunday to Saturday. This is the format of my current work calendar, and it drives me INSANE. I glance at my calendar at work, think, “Oh that project isn’t due until Wednesday,” then realise it is due Tuesday because the damn SUNDAY at the start of the week has thrown off my mojo. So through 2006 I will be staring at babies squashed inside flowerpots and dressed as bees. This is the price I pay for being sacreligious and refusing to start my week with the Lord’s day. I’m happy with it. Doodling moustaches on the babies won’t send me to hell, right?
