That’s it. I shall never ever put my trust in the stars again. I shall only look at them from the gutter, as recommended by Oscar Wilde.
What a fine disappointment (apart from Wednesday late evening) this week has been. My horror scope told me last Sunday (remember?) that I should say ‘yes’ to everything coming my way for the next seven days. This minute it’s Saturday morning and time is running out. And nothing has come my way. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zero. Please do not suggest that this might have something to do with my having put myself under house arrest. Human contact thus limited. There are other ways to communicate in the ether. Any moment now I’ll expect ET landing on the window sill. Peering in. Asking me what I am doing at 0355 BST at my desk and could he please have some scrambled eggs. Of course. Yes. Or an omelet.
The hot water situation (in the kitchen) has now reached critical mass. The plumber took the boiler away. When he asked me whether he could come back today (Saturday) to replace it I was so happy to be given one of my last opportunities to say: “Yes”. I even said ‘please’. Plumber promised to add cost of new toilet seat and fixing it to the fab Fabrizio’s (that’s my landlord) bill for having let the boiler slide into disrepair. “Compensation for your inconvenience”, Handy Andy said. You can’t beat it. Can you? Why did Handy Andy not become a lawyer?
What will the next 48 hours bring (other than a new horror scope)?
Hugs and kisses, please do make up for the deficit of questions I might be able to say ‘yes’ to. Or maybe I should take up growing mushrooms in the dark.
U
Hey, Ursula, did you not receive my request for proofreading my novels?? I’m not hearing a ‘yes’. Better answer quickly. I’d hate for you to miss THAT opportunity. LOL. Somehow I don’t think of you as a horoscope addict. You seem much too rational for such predictions. But then again…one doesn’t want to flirt with the fates.
Comment by writingfeemail — September 22, 2012 @ 14:37 |
Me flirt? I had so many good fairies at my cradle I am positively overwhelmed with good fortune (I mean it, not being sarcastic here). Still, I don’t like empty promises. Even from something (or someone) I don’t believe in the first place.
If you sent me some proofreading I’d be so chuffed I’d be in knots. And don’t worry: I can be gentle. Whilst being truthful. And discreet. If I could put into my Resume that I’d make an ideal mistress on account of being discreet I would. And possibly land myself a job with Richard Gere next time he needs a Pretty Woman.
Yes.
U
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So I can’t ask you for an invitation for tea? Shucks!
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