These long days of going interstate and back are a bit screwy but there are benefits. They include:
- going into the Qantas Club lounge with your boss who is a member. Free wine! Sadly we were running late so only got one glass, but as we'd already had a couple at the post-meeting socialising, that was ok.
Oh wait, I can't think of anything else. Not that the day sucked, by any means, but it was long and I got the most irritating taxi driver ever on the way home. I reckon he was about 25 and apparently and had no qualms about lecturing me on the merits of various car models (the Toyota Swift is a good little goer, I learned); British men are apparently all closet homosexuals. Did you know that? I didn't; and if you're a bloke and you want to sleep with women, you should just agree to everything they say, even if it's stupid.
Gen Y huh?
Whenever someone, like this guy, thinks it's ok to just dump whatever crap is in their brain on me, I find myself wondering why I don't just break into a lengthy description of Elizabeth Zimmerman's percentage system of jumper design and to hell with whether the audience is receptive or not!
There was one other fabulous thing about going interstate for the day. Sean had dinner almost on the table when I walked in the door at 8:30pm.
On the weekend, he read Adele's copy of the autumn Donna Hay magazine and he insisted we buy our own copy almost solely because of this dish. Pork chops with thyme and mashed parsnip.
It was so good. I dreamed of it all day and it was worth it.
Now, I must knit so I can sleep.
Bells
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