Every now and then, just to mess with the mister’s mind, I iron his shirts.
Never fails.
Category: doctor’s wife
Nostalgia
Remember – and it really wasn’t so long ago – when bananas were in short supply, and more expensive than gold and they never went black in your bowl?
Because I need just one more lust object
Because of reasons*, it has taken me all day (on and off) to get the pinky beecroft and the white russians album from emusic onto my mp3 player.
And now that I have Senor Beecroft crooning Call Me through my headphones, can I just say that it has been worth Every. Single. Second.
Call me.
Do I ever wish.
….
*the most obvious of which being that I am a 39 year old woman and not a nine year old boy
Lunchtime in Adelaide
I was going to sit down and watch Days of our Lives while I ate my cheese and tomato sandwich for lunch (not toasted today) when I remembered that I’m boycotting Channel 9 until they do something meaningful about Sam Newman and The Footy Show and it’s frightening attitude to women. So I’ll watch Judge Judy instead.
Effective activism? We has it.
and he has such a lovely name
Adelaide, who had been married long enough that even the good quality towel-sets were beginning to fray, had only heard herself say ‘my husband’ three times. No, four. And all of them in the last six months.
Which was strange she thought as she watched him load the washing machine, because, apart from the flanellette pyjamas he now wore against his once-bare skin, he seemed not to have changed.
She scratched at her head, thought that in this morning’s shower she should have washed her hair, and vowed that tomorrow she would drink less water and eat more cheese.
Applications, citing three referees…
I am thinking of applying for a job. Expect some wringing of hands, the likes of which you haven’t seen since I turned 38.
UPDATE: decided against it…
I can do it
And so, making today’s step towards the simplification of my life (I know, if it gets any simpler, I’ll be asleep, but it’s just one of those times), I said and remember after the AGM I’m definitely standing down as Chair and they nodded and said yes, yes, we hadn’t forgotten. And I felt strong and good.
Taming the paper tiger
I couldn’t work out why being the secretary of a straightforward committee was getting me down so much to the point that when I said I could no longer do the job and no one else offered to take it on, I felt like bursting into tears. If I hadn’t been in public, I really would have cried.
And just now I realised. It’s the paper. Each piece of which is a decision needing to be made.
Goodness me, is that the time?
At each of our six meetings, she has said I married him for better or for worse but not for lunch and while her laugh is never quite the same, my mmmm has never changed.
Cloudy but fine
My acupuncturist – I make regular visits now, and so I feel that I can call her my – says that today my pulses are slippery and therefore promising. Unlike last week, when my pulses were bright and she had to wipe my eyes with the towel which, because it was warm, made me cry a little more.