June 28th, 2010


(no subject)

You can't imagine how fervently I hope that was the last daughter the cleaning woman has ie. brings along; it's not so much the using me for their private things - while saying how my predecessor was younger and nicer ("she talked all the time, talk talk talk") - it's the first/only question any of them ask (me): "Do you have children? ... are you married?" I was last tortured by this as a child by very old dirt farmers in my mother's home region. It is much worse now, because of the ********* expression on their faces when you say no! Considering most or at least half of you are married with kids, you really can't imagine.

I gave up Milka, much like Pringles, because it has the additive that causes salivation so you can't stop even when you don't really enjoy it that much, and I only liked the most artificial (strawberry) anyway (in the economy sizes they didn't use to have white). And now they made a Snickers ie. caramal version .... *sigh* .... well, at least it attracts Kobold. She comes running like a small herd of elephants when she hears/smells chocolate.

Doctor Who at Glastonbury, found via tipsywitch, totally revives my silly hope that Master Simm will meet Matt Smith!