Hold the celibacy. It always happens. I declare a vow of celibacy, get up to make a really good, hot cup of tea and run into the most charming man, the sort of man who makes you instantly think "Do you mind dreadfully if I bear your children?" and then hope to hell you haven't said it out loud. I rarely have this happen to me, only once or twice, but here's a third and he was lovely. Witty, charming, intelligent, obviously well educated and well paid to be up here on this floor and drop dead gorgeous. Better still, he'd kill my AP if she ever saw him because he's rather obviously a hyphen-Australian, in a jaw droppingly handsome way. Oh my, yes, very exotic. I bet he's married, gay or both, such is the sorry story of my life (and English coffee commercials).
Still, he gave my heart a flutter so it's obviously still in there, beating, somewhere. Damn, now I wish I hadn't worn beloved cammie skirt into work, he probably thinks I'm a raging dyke (not that there's anything wrong with that except when you want to have a complete stranger's children). Oh well. I can see more cups of tea in my future, at least until his sub-dept moves out. Oh yes, of course he works for the sub-dept that is leaving our hugely dysfunctional family. Sigh. Pout. Whimper.
Oh well, at least he's proven the existence of charming men in the world. I was seriously having doubts. I want to believe, but, well, like Scully I do need emperical evidence from time to time.
In other news I was whining about having to be the style police re the new system, and the bad cop at that. Co-worker has cruelly nicknamed it PTS: Pink Type Syndrome. So now yesterday can be marked down to a bad case of PTS. Charmed, I'm sure.
Okay, enough schoolgirl drooling and back to work, especially as I'm the only one who managed to drag themselves out of bed this morning. Yes, I'm in command but I feel more like the lone surviving little drummer boy waving the white flag as the zulus/orcs/indians/commanches come crawling over the walls of the fort.
Another day of zany IT hours left me getting home during and missing most of the 'Scape but that's okay because it was one of the chosen few EvilChannelNine deigned to play and I fully intend to buy the box sets on dvd anyway. I managed to catch a few glimpses of JC and that's the important thing (leather, slurp, drool).
Tried to dress for sucess this morning but my white shirt must have been rode hard and put away wet (my fave phrase, passed on from my father), at least it was all damp when I put it on and it got all hideously and impossibly rumpled under my jumper this morning and it smells funny (note to self: lavender up the wardrobe, I suspect new life is evolving up the back with all the damp) so I look, as always, like I've been dragged through a hedge backwards (think Worzel) and I smell mouldy. Okay for dating fellow crypt dwellers, not okay for impressing Mr Gorgeous at The Other End of The Floor. so I'm going to hide up here behind my pot plants and try and go home early, 'kay?
Rewatched Buffy last night and the jury's still out on whether or not Blade, I mean Principal Wood (insert bad pun here) noticed Spike was a vamp from his lack of reflection in the car mirror or not. I saw Woody was actually trying out some Bullshitters style mirror acting with the Blond One but Bro says James, if not the script, moved in the seat so that Woodsie couldn't actually mirror act with a vampire. Comments? Questions?