That was it, crash – bang!
5:30am, and the neighbour’s cat had knocked one of my heavy ceramic dinner plates to meet its demise off the prep-table to shatter the edge on the slate floor.
This is NOT a good way to wake up, it doesn’t bode well for the rest of the day. It takes more than coffee to repair the damage.
A strong Irish coffee with chocolate could have gone part way to repairing the damage, but I was so furious that I couldn’t make it.
My Monday moaning could well be about the fact that I didn’t get to moan on Monday.
I am suffering a terrible affliction at the moment, it’s called work. Not just work, but it’s worse than split ends, it’s split days. Split days do not bode well with my post load.
It’s now Tuesday late p.m.
That was my opener on Eco-Crap a half hour ago, it applies here too, to explain my absence yesterday, and on other days when I don’t get here.
A trip for therapy helped me after class, yes, I went to the supermarket; the one that has a whole aisle of drinky-poos.
I got three bottles of wine, a bottle of Cointreau, and a bottle that looks like a Champagne bottle but with Stout Porter in it. I have absolutely no idea what Stout Porter is, except that I like stout.
I bought some food too, but I won’t bore you with those mundane details.
Except the cheese, got some stinky fancy cheeses.
Oh, I got two new knives as well. A carving knife and a bread knife, they are matching and looked so nice, that they fell into the shopping cart too.
Talk about impulse buying, but that is the best part of the therapy.
Should I mention that I bought some dirt? Maybe not, you may think I am silly. Yes, I bought some potting mix, okay?
That’s a rhetorical question, there’s no need to answer.
By the time I got home, put my treasures away, ate the puff pastry cheesy thingies and read the news, it was time for a nap; so here I am late on a Tuesday catching up.
I am not a ‘blogger’, I have discovered. Bloggers are common, I am…
wait for it…
*raises nose 30° to the horizontal*
I am an “artisanel publisher”, there, doesn’t that sound nifty, even a little snobbish? Not part of the hoi polloi anymore; I am separate from the masses.
My discovery of the day; chamber piece.
I always thought a chamber piece was a potty, or as some would call it a ‘thunder pot’.
It’s do do with music in a restricted place…
that takes all the fun out of it.
That means that chamber music isn’t what you’re listening to when you do your business.
Just before I rush off into the wild blue…
Another quote, not mine -
“I have never had a prouder moment as a mother. This is by far your most ridiculous post.” – Dawn’s mother commenting on Fit to Teach