I was stuck on the N1 on my way to Franschhoek last night. For two hours. It wasn’t pleasant. In fact it was sheer hell. It made me realise how all that driving over two years really sapped the energy from me on a daily basis, because today I still feel highly irritable. It isn’t helping that every morning this week I have arrived at work, with the air con switched off and two ladies draped in long sleeves and jackets. What the hell? Finally being unable to keep my mouth shut for one more steamy moment, I voiced my concern – only to be met with the answer that it must be my European blood that I don’t feel the cold! Huh? There are girls even wearing scarves today. I mean really…am I going mad…or am I just hot blooded? To make matters worse this dress code at work is slowing doing my head in. (‘Doing my head in.’ that is a pretty bad expression isn’t it? But I do love its implication, even through its path of bad grammar!) For some reason because we have British clients – we have to dress according to Her Majesty Royal standards. Thou shall not display a shoulder – because once a man sees the deliciousness of the curve of your shoulder he will forever be enraptured, bewitched – incapable of making a dime. Bare arms are to be feared more than Black Death – for once that gate of nakedness is open – there is only ruin and despair to greet you on the other side! Once my hem line was actually measured…personally I think that by wearing a long sleeved, skin tight, knee length black dress that stuck to all the rules, made them somewhat eager to include fine print!!
This long weekend means very much to me. It is going to be a good break. No more trying to squish anything and everything into two measly days. There is time to play, time to sleep and time to embrace those vegetative moments on the couch – guilt free, brain dead, Television stimulation. Four days break away from the chewer, the fashion police and the snooze button!
Tonight…tonight I am looking forward to a bit of magic!