Yesterday I picked up a tub of something proclaiming to be bush honey flavoured yoghurt. I've no idea what it's like because I didn't bring it in today. I have a big meeting today and I just knew I'd be wearing it like baby vomit down the front of my shirt if I even tried. Be nice for brekkie tomorrow. So sad that I have breakfast, lunch and dinner at my desk these days.
But no eating until apres meeting today. I'm one of those folks that can't get within 10 metres of barbeque sauce without wearing it. Tragic.
Nope, today I'm Little Miss Office, stripey shirt, dark skirt, black shoes and hair up in a bun. Did I mention I once had a boss who insisted I always wear my hair up in a bun, every day? Managers. Weird.
Yesterday, as I'd not done the washing and the boss was away, I didn't bother wasting a good shirt on an empty seat. So I wore one of those not t-shirts I keep around in emergencies. You know, those jersey tops that older women wear when they're not relaxed enough to wear a t-shirt, usually with a v-neck and some poxy embroidery. I never buy them myself but end up with them as presents and they have their uses, on between wash days.
This one was a near yikes inducing shade of lilac, with the requisite amount of machined embroidery and a v neck that ended in two little purple ties. I suppose it looked cute on the rack, but in practice, me and dangling purple ties are a recipe for disaster. They dangle in sinks and teacups and toilet bowls and pot plants and yoghurt without care or discrimination. Not the sort of top I could ever wear safely to a buffet then.
I once made the mistake of wearing this rather snazzy shirt I have to a buffet. It has ties at the end of the sleeves. Very impractical. I can get buy at a cocktail function or a tea and biccies or wine and cheese night, but a buffet? Sure, once the ties have dangled in everything from the potato salad to the beef strog I can be assured I won't need any midnight snacks by just sucking on the ends (I always eat practically nothing at group meals because I'm so mortified by my own weight, but it leads to severe hunger pangs later) but it's not really the done thing, is it, and rather a faux paus to be caught dunking your sleeve ties into the pumpkin soup entree.
Damn and blast whomever designs these clothes. Must be a man. A man who is waited on hand and foot and who is never, ever caught at buffets.
Yesterday I had things to do. Important, necessary exercisey, houseworky and web adminy and favours for friends things. No such luck. Another 13 hour day as something that couldn't wait until tomorrow landed on my desk just as I was packing up to go home. Damn and blast.
So, no stuff done, no tv. No Clive watching, no nothing. Just shopping, home and bed. Grrr. I hates them so. (I meant to just nap for an hour or so before my late night tv viewing but I slept right through until midnight, the one time I didn't want to).
I did get some post from friends. Thanks. Pray that I get some quality time with Raffles tonight or there'll be hell to pay.