no prizes for guessing what i had for dinner
There are few satisfactions as subtle as removing the poop-chutes from prawns in one fell swoop of intact poop-chutery. Some people don’t bother with prawn poop-chute removal, but I’m an anti-poop-chute stickler. It can be finicky work, finicky but with a permeating sense of quiet accomplishment (and this adds a certain je ne sais quoi to the eventual taste of the whole cooked prawn experience).
While out and about I’ve been bumping into the ghosts of colleagues past. Unfortunately though, on all three occasions, I had forgotten their names and just went with over-enthusiastic hellos and enquiries about them and the workplaces we’d shared. Of course, the problem with effusive hellos and feigned interest is that then you have to listen to the lengthy replies and all three of my recent ghosts were prolific gossiping Gerties and bemoaning Beryls (there’s a name I’d love to see come back into style - why aren’t people calling their daughters Beryl anymore?!).
And now since I’ve lamented bemoaning Beryls, I shall hypocritically become one myself and tell you a litany of my current woes - There’s a week of work to go before the break and I’m feeling simultaneously restless and intractably rock-like. I have a blister on my heel and I keep thinking I should start spraying my heels each morning with hairspray (I saw this on a TV program once but I’m not sure I could do it - what would be next? Brushing my teeth with shoe polish?! I think not!). I had to replace my car windscreen on Friday when a stone flicked up from the car in front and cracked it on the way to work. It was kind of fascinating actually, watching the crack get slowly longer and deeper with every bump and swerve. I woke up today to discover I have a pimple inside my left nostril - INSIDE!! I bought some VERY good blackberries the other day but ate them all yesterday and have been blackberry deprived today as a consequence- let this be a lesson to you, blackberry lovers everywhere, to always buy far more blackberries than you think you will need. It is best to err on the side of blackberry excess (this shall be my new motto, replacing my previous “sing like a dickhead and dance like a duck” motto, which I have followed faithfully for years too innumerable for my mathematically-challenged brain to calculate).
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While out and about I’ve been bumping into the ghosts of colleagues past. Unfortunately though, on all three occasions, I had forgotten their names and just went with over-enthusiastic hellos and enquiries about them and the workplaces we’d shared. Of course, the problem with effusive hellos and feigned interest is that then you have to listen to the lengthy replies and all three of my recent ghosts were prolific gossiping Gerties and bemoaning Beryls (there’s a name I’d love to see come back into style - why aren’t people calling their daughters Beryl anymore?!).
And now since I’ve lamented bemoaning Beryls, I shall hypocritically become one myself and tell you a litany of my current woes - There’s a week of work to go before the break and I’m feeling simultaneously restless and intractably rock-like. I have a blister on my heel and I keep thinking I should start spraying my heels each morning with hairspray (I saw this on a TV program once but I’m not sure I could do it - what would be next? Brushing my teeth with shoe polish?! I think not!). I had to replace my car windscreen on Friday when a stone flicked up from the car in front and cracked it on the way to work. It was kind of fascinating actually, watching the crack get slowly longer and deeper with every bump and swerve. I woke up today to discover I have a pimple inside my left nostril - INSIDE!! I bought some VERY good blackberries the other day but ate them all yesterday and have been blackberry deprived today as a consequence- let this be a lesson to you, blackberry lovers everywhere, to always buy far more blackberries than you think you will need. It is best to err on the side of blackberry excess (this shall be my new motto, replacing my previous “sing like a dickhead and dance like a duck” motto, which I have followed faithfully for years too innumerable for my mathematically-challenged brain to calculate).
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