Pretty in pink.

So.
Back to work.
Went like this.
Cuppa.
Catch up.
Staff meeting.
"Inspirational, relaxing" personal journey to ? Myself? God?
Anyway, involved taking frustrations out on a piece of plasticine and dropping a marble into a jug of water to release myself of guilt.
Would I like a cup of tea and a biscuit?
Did I need to sit down after my "journey?"
Was I emotional? Drained?
Erm. No.
It was hardly a trip up Everest with a Gurkha on my back.
Then. Did a bit of calligraphy to relax my mind.
Then. Painted a rock. (might be a future blip).
Then. It was time for me to leave.
But.
Had to stay for another staff meeting.
I kid you not.
This was my morning at work.

Went to my Dads. Garden centre. Bought props for blip.
Tescos.
Day done.

Note to self: Try harder not to be so bloody cynical.

I once got dumped by a lad (he had an awful skin problem, so I wasn't bothered), he told me I was sarcastic in a cynical manner. I wondered about that and was sceptical for a long while.

Twenty three years later, I realise.


He was right.
Even, though he's probably in prison or on the run somewhere now.