Jazz hands. Are they ever really acceptable in the work place? Today I found out that they are, but you'll be forever known as 'that weird girl with the purple hair who does jazz hands'. It seemed appropriate at the time. I've now learnt that my sense of humour clearly outranks theirs. Ah well, c'est la vie!
My arm has healed up a treat - the 'itchy as balls' stage passed quite nicely and Edgar is looking rather handsome now he's lost his yellow aura. The only sad thing is, I now have to wait until April for him to get his colouring.
Still, gives me the chance to work overtime so I can actually afford my next sitting. 
The dreaded valentines day is approaching. Already I'm getting sick of hearing how wonderful everyone elses plans are going to be for that 'fabulous night'. Really?! Don't people know that I don't give a monkeys how big their bouquet of flowers is going to be? I just want to grab them and shake them whilst screaming "the restaurant you're going to is well known for serving the neighbours cat at the main 'dish of the day' and everything will end in tears!". But I don't. That would be rude. Instead I make all the customary 'awwww' noises whenever they pause for breath.
Not that I'm bitter and/or cynical in any way. Well, actually thats a lie. I am a little cynical, but it comes and goes. I've never celebrated Valentines day - and I've just spent the past 4 of them disgustingly in love with the same guy. He didn't celebrate it either. I don't see why just one night of the year should be special. Every day should be special in one way or another. Leave a little note on the bathroom mirror. Pop a lunchtime treat into their work bag. Flash them when they're not expecting it. Simple things. Plus, that way you don't have to spend your evening crammed into a restaurant, elbow to elbow with the couple on the next table, all the while trying to impress your other half and slowly being bored to death by the quiet (yet still tinny) generic 'romantic' music that's playing in the background.
Hmmmmmm. Maybe I just need to go on a date and re-discover romance?
My arm has healed up a treat - the 'itchy as balls' stage passed quite nicely and Edgar is looking rather handsome now he's lost his yellow aura. The only sad thing is, I now have to wait until April for him to get his colouring.
Still, gives me the chance to work overtime so I can actually afford my next sitting.
The dreaded valentines day is approaching. Already I'm getting sick of hearing how wonderful everyone elses plans are going to be for that 'fabulous night'. Really?! Don't people know that I don't give a monkeys how big their bouquet of flowers is going to be? I just want to grab them and shake them whilst screaming "the restaurant you're going to is well known for serving the neighbours cat at the main 'dish of the day' and everything will end in tears!". But I don't. That would be rude. Instead I make all the customary 'awwww' noises whenever they pause for breath.
Not that I'm bitter and/or cynical in any way. Well, actually thats a lie. I am a little cynical, but it comes and goes. I've never celebrated Valentines day - and I've just spent the past 4 of them disgustingly in love with the same guy. He didn't celebrate it either. I don't see why just one night of the year should be special. Every day should be special in one way or another. Leave a little note on the bathroom mirror. Pop a lunchtime treat into their work bag. Flash them when they're not expecting it. Simple things.
Plus, that way you don't have to spend your evening crammed into a restaurant, elbow to elbow with the couple on the next table, all the while trying to impress your other half and slowly being bored to death by the quiet (yet still tinny) generic 'romantic' music that's playing in the background.
Hmmmmmm. Maybe I just need to go on a date and re-discover romance?
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
You have a great writing style and sense of humor.