Three non-consequential things have happened this month. And because all things non-consequential need to be apprised to the world, I am going to do just that.
So, firstly, I watched Les Miserables.
Les Miserables, like all musicals was good. Very good. Though I did see quite a few guys walk out because they couldn't take so much, how should I put this..drama? And probably because watching fully grown men singing things, instead of just saying them might have threatened their own manhood. It was a perfect Sunday night movie and though hubby said he hated it, I'm thinking he secretly liked it. Don't tell him I said that.
Of course, I think the next few days we're going say all our sentences in a song. I realized things like 'I just woke up and I want you to make teaaaaa' sounded much better in a loud, tune-less sing song voice. And of course, like they say, my voice could be much worse than my problems.
Coming to the next point, I think my husband has mastered the art of managing women. I was watching 'The Mentalist' with my better half reluctantly perched on the sofa, when I saw Patrick Jane vocally admiring the tea he was given. "Clove and honey..mmmm...delicious", he said. And then, I had this sudden urge to drink clove and honey tea. Because I had both honey and clove at hand, I went and made some. I loved it. I did offer a nice cupful to the better half of mine who drank it wordlessly.
The next day, when it was my turn to make tea, "Honey and clove?", I asked, excitedly.
"It's ummm..too exotic.", said the husband, with a contrite look on his face.
Nice save, mister.
Lastly, I spent the last one year trying to whip my body cycle into that of a normal person. But it wouldn't have any of it. I spent sleepless mornings, awake as a dying frog, trying to force myself to sleep at night. And then, sometime in December last year, I turned into a diurnal person, doing a regular 9 to 6 work shifts. As luck would have it, I've been thrown again into night shifts and I was thinking my body would go into a roller-coaster ride again, trying to adjust.
Not.
I was awake as a baby on steroids on my first night in shift.
People have, for years, been terrified of waking me up early in the morning 'cos I'm such a joy and take pleasure in biting their heads off when they do. It all makes sense now. I realized I never was and never will be a morning person
God Bless the Queen. And King. And everybody else.
So, firstly, I watched Les Miserables.
Les Miserables, like all musicals was good. Very good. Though I did see quite a few guys walk out because they couldn't take so much, how should I put this..drama? And probably because watching fully grown men singing things, instead of just saying them might have threatened their own manhood. It was a perfect Sunday night movie and though hubby said he hated it, I'm thinking he secretly liked it. Don't tell him I said that.
Of course, I think the next few days we're going say all our sentences in a song. I realized things like 'I just woke up and I want you to make teaaaaa' sounded much better in a loud, tune-less sing song voice. And of course, like they say, my voice could be much worse than my problems.
Coming to the next point, I think my husband has mastered the art of managing women. I was watching 'The Mentalist' with my better half reluctantly perched on the sofa, when I saw Patrick Jane vocally admiring the tea he was given. "Clove and honey..mmmm...delicious", he said. And then, I had this sudden urge to drink clove and honey tea. Because I had both honey and clove at hand, I went and made some. I loved it. I did offer a nice cupful to the better half of mine who drank it wordlessly.
The next day, when it was my turn to make tea, "Honey and clove?", I asked, excitedly.
"It's ummm..too exotic.", said the husband, with a contrite look on his face.
Nice save, mister.
Lastly, I spent the last one year trying to whip my body cycle into that of a normal person. But it wouldn't have any of it. I spent sleepless mornings, awake as a dying frog, trying to force myself to sleep at night. And then, sometime in December last year, I turned into a diurnal person, doing a regular 9 to 6 work shifts. As luck would have it, I've been thrown again into night shifts and I was thinking my body would go into a roller-coaster ride again, trying to adjust.
Not.
I was awake as a baby on steroids on my first night in shift.
People have, for years, been terrified of waking me up early in the morning 'cos I'm such a joy and take pleasure in biting their heads off when they do. It all makes sense now. I realized I never was and never will be a morning person
God Bless the Queen. And King. And everybody else.
