Of Divas and Divs

I'm ready for my close-up

I suppose this belongs on the other blog but sometimes life can't be neatly divided (most times?).

I decided not to do the craft show next week but to list my stuff on my sadly neglected MISI shop. The main reason being I didn't feel like I had enough jewellery ready and the second reason being I felt pushed to make something rather than making what I like and feel proud of. Same as the first reason I guess.

This meant a day spent in my photographic studio (bedroom and/or front doorstep if the sun is shining). Its a blummin good job the sun did come out too as Dora, on discovering her services as a model were not required, flounced off in full supermodel mode "accidently" batting one of the lamps to the floor and breaking it to cries of "for F****s sake Dora!" she really took the hump then and went downstairs to sulk with her trusty sidekick Max.

He doesn't have delusions of divaness but is a bit of a div he has extended his love of soggy sponges to anything that might be found in the bathroom. So razors, tubes of toothpaste and the pumice stone are the latest things that have to be hidden if you don't want to find them in your shoes of a morning and the toilet rolls continue to be sacrificed to the gods of the u-bend. We really must get a lock on that bathroom door.

Extreme lazyness

I've been a bit quiet of late mainly because I am once again in the UK getting a bit of extra dosh and I felt a bit sulky about it to be honest but I've got over myself now. It's lucky that I can do it and that I have a brother who will pick me up at the airport and put me up in his spare room for the price of a couple of bars of French chocolate with raspberry bits in.

TS is at home looking after the gang, working and doing DIY on our house in my absence. I'm in two minds on this one. Half glad that I don't have to do it and half wanting to stick my oar in because I just can't bear not to be in charge. Actually I'm at least seven eighths glad that I don't have to do it and I can offer reams of advice and guidance by e-mail anyway.

To make sure I can play my part properly on my return I have been studying Extreme Makeover. Honestly that's the only reason. I don't really want to spend hours vegging out in front of the telly eating Martin's ice cream and crying buckets over all those tales of hardship while TS does all the work. I just want to do my bit. So whatever the house looks like I will jump up and down, scream and cry and shout Oh My God.

Come to think of it that will be fine either way won't it?

Just need to look up the French for bus driver move that bus and I'm sorted

Nearly there

Just over two weeks to go now so of course time has slowed to a snail's pace.

Today though was broken up nicely. I am finishing my latest assignment tomorrow and they took me out for lunch to thank me for my hard work. How good is that? Not the sort of treatment us temps are used to but I could become accustomed to it. I wouldn't recommend it from a productivity point of view, I'm sitting here still stuffed to the gills with Italian food and I really didn't like to ring anyone this afternoon as I was just a little bit giddy from the wine and we won't mention the garlic breath. We don't need to TS and my brother haven't stopped telling me I stink since I got home, perhaps I should of had a nibble on the parsley garnish.

My next assignment, should I choose to accept it, which of course I will, is for two weeks at another department in the Uni so that's me fully employed till I go home.

Normal Service?

I've just noticed how rubbish my spelling is and those tippy tappy typing mistakes are creeping in all over.

It's the rush of city life folks it's taking me over and my poor little fingers just can't keep up. They want to be gardening fingers weeding and planting seeds and such or chicken wrangling fingers collecting eggs and giving out treats.

NOrmal service will soon be resumed I just thought I'd tell you since I somehow managed to get to work half an hour early and I don't have to impress anyone by actually looking like I'm going to start work before nine.

Temping - the pay is crap but you can be too