horns of wilmington's cow

By anth

Reflections

Caught looking at yourself
A snapshot of how others see you
Whether vanity or lack of self-esteem
The mirror shows nothing new
But still
We look

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Exactly one week of work to go. Four days this week, then Monday to tie off loose ends, then free for two and a half weeks... I should really be doing more in the evening than working out where to break out of BT Broadband to (and trying to get the MAC code from them, "No, honestly, I don't want to 'dicuss options' with you, just give me the code you obdurate git. I can do better than 512k in an alleged 'up to' 6Mb contract").

But all the little jobs are gradually being worked through. It's funny how many of these minor worries build up and combine to produce just a whole heap of stress. Occasionaly I'll take the list-writer's route, and be happy to tick things off, but I have a habit of adding as much, if not more, as I go along, and still avoid the biggest hassle jobs. Human nature I suppose, we all want an easy ride.

Or as Sheryl Crow once put it, "No-one said it would be easy, but no-one said it'd be this hard."

Sage words Sheryl, if only you hadn't ruined it all by inventing the detachable sleeve to wipe your mouth with after a meal in order to save the world's environment, or suggest that people should only be allowed three sheets of paper for each trip to the toilet. You started coming across as a bit mental at that point.

How did I get onto Sheryl Crow? If that's not a leading question, conjuring up a story involving me, a backstage pass to the MTV awards and Sheryl finding irresistible an accent combining Geordie and Aberdonian and the tale culminating with her sitting in one of my shirts at the end of the bed strumming her guitar and writing a song about me which then goes to number one worldwide and thrusts our relationship into the limelight whereupon we try to cover up the cracks in our relationship by adopting orphan children only for it finally to become too much and she sells her story to Hello magazine, while I plump for the News of the World and after three years of bilious hatred we go our separate ways and I get a spot on Celebrity Big Brother.

I think I need a holiday after all of that don't you?!?!?!

p.s. the moth was sitting on the big mirror in our living room just as I was going to bed - light him up with a little pen torch thing. But the moth was kind of ancillary to this whole story eh?

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