There is something about people who are grown up and wearing crocheted clothes. It just makes them look about 50 years older. I mean like, crocheted jumpers, rather than the nice crocheted cardigans that you sometimes get. Semi crocheted is ok, but a fill on crocheted jumper on an old lady that you can see through… now that’s wrong.
The new dress code is in force at work. Which means not that much difference really, in the grand scheme of things. Most people have purchased the fetching io polo shirts (in a selection of navy or black, short or long sleeved and a v neck fitted t shirt if you are a girl with very small boobs) and are just wearing them instead of the usual t shirt. Still with the jeans and trainers. Suits me down to the ground. It takes the hassle of trying to decide what to wear every morning away, which can only be a good thing.
Work, work, work. It is dull, dull, dull again. The malaise that has crept in since Christmas, has not eased any. I don’t think I am the only one. Matters have not been helped by me being paid 6 days late this month. It would have been longer had the boss man not stepped in and made them push it through. I was fuming, needless to say. Still am. It is a much longer and duller story than I have the patience or energy to write about here.
The house! It’s still standing. Lee fixed the washing machine up and we tried it out last night. It was odd how we both sat there watching it instead of the TV, as if we expected it to explode, or something. It didn’t. It washed the clothes though, and as I left this morning, it was thinking about drying them, so hopefully Lee’s mum will be able to sigh a relief at not having to do all our washing now.