I was having a slightly rubbish day today. It was quite promising at first, Le Homme came home last night so I slept better and woke up pretty cheerful.
Then I went into town to do some shopping. I am not good at shopping. It’s bizarre, I become incredibly indecisive when faced with too much choice. During the week I went on to the Oasis website and ordered three dresses as options to wear to a wedding on Saturday. They arrived yesterday, I tried them on, and decided which one to keep. Simples! But today, in actual shops, looking for something to buy my sister for her birthday? It took me five hours to pick three tops and some posh body lotion. And this is after her specifically saying she wanted new clothes, casual/dressy tops preferably. Then I had to buy a wedding gift which resulted in so much second guessing of myself, there were nearly tears. Particularly when I realised I’d spent twice as much as I had intended. I had also intended to look for some jewellery to wear with the new dress but retired to a cafe to have an espresso and a double chocolate brownie, to give myself a break from the mental anguish.
Returned home to discover an email from my boss. It’s been three weeks since I heard from him, or anyone else in a professional capacity. There was no greeting, there was no sympathy. It merely said
Please find attached the minutes from the investigatory meeting we carried out. I would appreciate if you could read, sign and return these as soon as possible.
Which undid all the good work done by the double chocolate brownie and reduced me to a wibbly wreck again. Not so much from the content, or the attachment, but from the sheer lack of supportive language. I haven’t seen the guy for three weeks, could he not have been a little nice? Just a little? It does not promote positive feelings about returning to work anyway.
I logged on to my wordpress account and I have comments!! People have read things and commented on them! Oh joyous day! I primarily blog for myself, since back in the day when I had a Livejournal. I love looking back over what I was doing at certain times. But comments are special, for reasons I know not. I realise I should probably be all cool, and “whatEVAH” about it, but I can’t. I get so much out of the blogs I read that it’s nice to know there’s someone out there reading mine.