Things are so painfully tedious today. I want to leave work and walk in the snow with Mr. Almost Poshlust and wear a toque and drink hot chocolate and have pink cheeks and a spring in my step... rather than have this chair with a spring up my ass and the keyboard (hopefully) giving me carpal tunnel syndrome, in which case I can become one of those office ladies bleached white by the flourescent lights with a little wrist wrap demanding the union massage her bunions and feed her Oreos.
So I've made Mr. Almost Poshlust promise that I will only ever have to paint and make goat cheese when we travel the world with our babies and our goat, and take photographs and eat omelettes in one hundred different cities and be denizens of the world. And learn a dozen languages (or at least how to say "breakfast for two" and "where are the jewels" in every language) Or form a band named Bombay Duck and release an album called Banana Chocolate Tiger Babies, and tour the land in ruby slippers.
Or at least, with 4 hours to go in my day, that's what I pray will happen. Because this spring in my ass is getting worse, and my wrists aren't getting any stiffer. God Damn.
So I've made Mr. Almost Poshlust promise that I will only ever have to paint and make goat cheese when we travel the world with our babies and our goat, and take photographs and eat omelettes in one hundred different cities and be denizens of the world. And learn a dozen languages (or at least how to say "breakfast for two" and "where are the jewels" in every language) Or form a band named Bombay Duck and release an album called Banana Chocolate Tiger Babies, and tour the land in ruby slippers.
Or at least, with 4 hours to go in my day, that's what I pray will happen. Because this spring in my ass is getting worse, and my wrists aren't getting any stiffer. God Damn.
1 comment:
Awe Ms. Poshlust, I LOVE YOU! You're so nifty and even when you're having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day...I love reading about it...
Post a Comment