My colleague thinks I'm collecting material for my debut as a stand up comic and as much as I would like this to be true, my brain is like a papier mache mulch of sludge (http://www.papiermache.co.uk/) by the time I return home from work. It is at this point, that I become sloth like (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sloth)(Check out that bad boy)
I can't bloody remember for the life of me any of the anecdotes during the day. Why were we hysterically laughing like the three witches from Macbeth? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Macbeth). Not to say my colleagues and I are witches, but rather a cast of BBC2's Grumpy old women, which is something I thought I'd never become, but actually feel very comfortable being here. I spend the day playing a continuous game of volleyball passes of banter and laughter, in between working my butt off and being the best I can be.
I can remember the visual day I've had, the copious amount of black coffee, pulling faces partly through the creases of laughter and more than likely through sheer despair, the invented silly walks around the office to stretch my legs, the rants and the way I was feeling. But try and put that into words, well now, that's a different ball game all together, and if I could, I would be heading to an open mic night, as we speak,(http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2007/jan/06/freestuff.guardianspecial415)although being so sloth like, does mean I will put it off until tomorrow.
Anyhow, a picture is worth a thousand words and I am in the mood for sharing
Goodnight, don't let the bedbugs bite
♥
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