Plus ça change...

By SooB


After another loony day chained to the desk, a half hour outside with the bunnies was very welcome.  Though obviously mainly I was just in despair about the weeds and ineffectually pulled a few out here and there.  Joey, meanwhile, chose a weed-free area to dig in.  Not helpful.

Another call with the American lawyer who is making my life difficult, but in such a charming way that I end up agreeing with the craziness and offering to do all the leg-work.  And further despair when one of my clients at 7pm suggested we go through and prioritise the list of things that have to be done "today".  Nope.  Not happening.  Today is over for work, and it is time to scavenge the leftovers we rejected yesterday, add a sausage, and call it dinner.

(Anyway, I have at least two hours tomorrow to work before they've even checked their emails, so that counts as today really.)

In other news, my Mam was delighted to hear we may be sending TallGirl to live with her for a week for a crazy reason, some lovely soft stuff arrived for making the sofa (yep, still on that) and tonight's topic of argument with TallGirl was whether you could say "No spoiling" when you really mean "No spoilers".  Apparently having my finger on the pulse of the zeitgeist is no substitute for grammatical use of the gerund.  (I think that's what she said anyway, she had a mouth full of fried pasta at the time).

Said discussion related to my relinquishing of 'The 100' as a show I care about.  It feels like Pretty Little Liars all over again.  But with a lot more murdering and way too many pustules.

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