Tuesday twaddle on….

I spat the dummy this morning – er – had a tantrum – and decided I was sick to death of the sick thing and sitting still, being good and doing nothing much. It’s just not me. So I hauled on a wrinkled ensemble and hiked down from the Heights where I live – no not Mt Olympus but damn close – and went to the shopping centre. I am not supposed to drive at the moment. Fair enough. Walking does not bother me – it’s relaxing. It’s normally a brisk Amarinda fast paced 15 minutes-get-out-of-my-way-I-have-things-to-do-walk to the shopping centre. This time it took me a drag-my-arse-I’ll-just-lean-here-for-a-moment-35-minutes. But I got there and that was all that mattered. Of course there was a sale on and of course I was forced to buy some half priced things. It would have been genetically impossible not to buy something and it was half priced so I did actually save money I can use somewhere else. Yes – of course that’s logical. I am actually ahead in $$. If something costs $50 and you get it for say $20 then you have saved $30 so you are in profit and you can use that money someone else. It’s old Jones logic handed down by the women in the family. I also bought a chocolate and broke the chocolate drought that had been forced on me.

Anyway came home in a taxi. It was the cab ride from hell. The doctor said to me you can drive the car when you don’t have to worry about breaking suddenly and hurting your stomach. No worries there. The guy behind the wheel of the taxi I swear was either on drugs or a drunken six year old on skates. He was all over the place – stopping, starting, breaking, skidding – I was thrown all over the backseat - however I now know I am good to drive my car come Friday so it was a valuable if not nerve wracking experience.

When I got home I had a phone call from the Managing Director of the company I work for. Never had that happen. Instantly I started thinking up an alibi why whatever it was could not have been me even though it probably was and damn-it-how-did-get-caught? But no - he wanted to know how I was. Huh? What the? I told him it took a lot to kill me. He was unsure what to say. But the thing is this is the first company I have ever worked for, in a looooong list of jobs, which actually gives a rat’s arse about you. Bizarro world

That’s about it for Tuesday, despite dire predictions from well meaning friends my walk did not kill me. I did turn heads of course in what I call my Little Lord Fauntleroy outfit – white surgical stockings up to my knees while wearing ¾ length pants and thongs (flip flops) but someone must set the trends. Paris Hilton has nothing on me…

Amarinda Jones
www.amarindajones.com
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/AmarindaJonesNewsletter/
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?