1) Being a woman can be the ultimate bitch. The word ‘bitch’ does, conveniently refer to a woman of angst, after all. That Time Of The Month cramps left me crippled and doubled over last night, in pain, until The Ant offered me Myprodol – prescription medicine of the Gods.
As a result, I decided not to go to work today.
I am going to dowse myself with pills, visit the doctor in light of getting onto the contraceptive patch (oh God, contraceptives again), and feel sorry for myself in bed alone.
Superb. No seriously. Lying in a semi-comatic state, free of pain, and washed out on Myprodol is better than excruciating cramps.
2) Thank God it’s Friday
3) Thank God it’s Friday
4) Sourcing 1 x gold bikini from the back pages of the Elle was one helluva an issue. I had to phone around 9 numbers just to find out who the agent was. The shop at which it is sold is in Cape Town, the agent is AWOL, but she suggested I phone various shops in Eastgate and Sandton to find it. Still, alas. And trust me, this gold bikini has my name written all over it.
(Perhaps not today as such….but generally. I will ignite the beaches of Cape Town and Knysna these holidays with a glaringly gold bikini. I shall feel like a goddess.)
Right. I’m in so much pain right now. It’s seldom I feel so ill when the painters are in.
It totally blows.