Enough's enough.

Okay folks. It’s over.

The self flaggelating whiny-assed posts have come to an end, well, for the foreseeable future anyway. The weekend is looming on my horizon and soon I’ll be in a fast car speeding up the coast. My birthday mood has finally kicked in.

Angel, Barbarella, Chops, The Kanuck, The Flung and yours truly are so out of here.

The Flung has questioned my definition of ”Let’s leave at 9.30am”.

Apparently leaving is in the car, doors closed, driving away as the clock clicks over to 9.30am. Not arriving at Clare’s house, making coffee and discussing how to pack the cars at 9.43am while The Flung goes slowly insane with pent up rage and frustration, all while pacing up and down Perfect Street and repeatedly looking at his watch.

Jeez. The pressure.

And listen, just on an aside, has anyone seen the front page of the Cape Times today? May I just say “Rowrrrr.”

Ahem. That’s all.

Comments

Hear hear Clare

Finally!

I was getting worried about you chicken.

And ja, Cape Times cover - YUM!

Thanks Fluts.

I think the beginning of every month will probably bring a couple of despairing posts while I watch my finances disappear fast than the proverbial speeding bullet. But then the haemorraging slows and finally stops and I can scrabble around and find my sense of humour again.

Clarebear

It's only money.

If you say it three times very quickly you might start believing it.
You bank manager may not, but really, it isn't worth stressing about.

Say it like you mean it.

I tell myself that and then pour another glass of wine.