Pukeable Monday..

I spent most of my day at work today writing my next book which is about sexual submission. Do I know my job or what? To be honest, it wasn’t very busy at work. No, you’re right, it’s a crap excuse for doing personal stuff at work but it’s a Monday and I am always a little slow with excuses on a Monday. But in all fairness, my friends, who also work, were doing stuff all as well in their jobs. See? Now I am blaming them. It’s a Monday thing. No responsibility, no blame. I did not want to-they made me, it wasn’t my fault-I was pushed. You know the drill. Anyway I had received all sorts of email attachments with crazy stuff on them, weird jokes, and just I hate my job/life/partner/hair colour emails. I also had to come up with suggestions for various ways and means Ethel could smuggle out her latest shipment of office stationery without getting nabbed. Busy, busy, busy. I also chatted with my two blog serial cohorts and shook my head over Grasshopper's latest entry. See, none of what happened today was my fault.

I got called up stairs in the middle of a particularly hot little chapter I was writing. They needed to see me immediately. Anyway I went up to see what the fuss was about. As I walked up the stairs I stopped. What if they found had out what I was writing at work? What fabulous lie was I going to use to explain the use of sex toys on company time? Not me, my characters of course. I had a couple of options. Admit it and burst into tears as this always confuses men and I am very good at spontaneous tears. Or admit it coolly and say "was that all?” This is always a fun option. Anyway I walked into prepared for whichever scenario I had to face. It was neither. They remain blissfully unaware of what evil I do. Which is good as I was beginning to worry that I was slipping in my old age when it came to hiding stuff. Quel horreur...

They wanted to talk to me about – Skippy…what else? Skippy, my assistant, has given them an ultimatum – get rid of Amarinda or I leave. They told her "okay when did you want to leave?" See, the thing with ultimatums is you have to be sure they are so horrified at the possible consequences that they immediately agree to your terms. They didn’t. As annoying and gosh darn charming as I am, they like me. So now the Skipster is screwed. She either jumps ship of her own accord or sits and mutters curses against me. I hope it’s the latter as I find the low monotone incantations soothing.

I went and put mypaperwork in to get a new passport. I looked at my old passport photo and laughed. Was the really me? Across between Pollyanna and Susie Sunshine? Okay maybe if Susie was a bitch 4 days out of 5. I flicked through and looked at the stamps from all the different countries. Great memories. I came across two photos stuffed in the back of the old passport – both of me. I lined them up against my Pollyanna photo and the transition was amazing – from good girl, to not so good girl, to who the hell is that girl to the woman I am today. I am pleased to say I have not aged too badly. But then I like me and can never see anything bad – sagging and hailed damaged – but not bad.

I know you read Anny’s blog – www.annycook.blogspot.com and caught up with Emmeline. Did you read Grasshoppers open challenge to me on www.kkirch.blogspot.com?
"Can AJ hack it? Can she figure out a way to continue the blogga without resorting to a dream sequence? I don't know. She tells me I might be surprised."

Oh gee …I am so scared. Oh dear what will AJ do? How can AJ ever continue the blog serial without resorting to an AJ dream sequence? Is AJ screwed? I think not...

Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?

www.freewebs.com/janetdavies