Out Of Office

Thank you for your correspondence.

I am currently unavailable to comment on it. I am out of the office.

If your query is urgent, please contact someone else. I don't actually care.

Kind Regards,

Mrs B's Brain x

... Now It Is

Yesterday I blogged about the romance. Today I am here to tell you that it vanished.

Mr B read my post and came bounding down the stairs singing "we've got the love" Florence and the Machine style. He bounced into the kitchen and attempted to squeeze me. I said: "No. No. Why do we have to have the love? I am baking." Mr B said: "I just read your blog and it was sweet and loving". So, I began to sing (Florence and the Machine style) "I got my teapot. I got my teapot." Mr B retorted ... 

"You have the tone deaf".

And thus, the romance was shot down in flames. 

Romance Isn't Dead

So, who said romance was dead? Not me. Nope indeedy. You want to know why? I got my teapot.

I came home from work yesterday in a rather foul mood. You only need to look at my previous post to see why. Mr B gave to me a lovely hug and then said "why don't you have some breakfast?" I was like "fngfbwkrbglirbv?!?" and then "why would I want breakfast at 5.45pm? I don't want any breakfast." Then Mr B said: "you do." So, I thought to myself that maybe I was wrong and deep down inside I did want some breakfast after all. I opened the cupboard and sitting on top of the breakfast box was a Pandora bag with a lovely ribbon through it. I opened it up and inside was teeny tiny box.

It wasn't a ring, if that's what you're thinking. I'm already married. Mr B has categorically informed me that there will be no more rings. Oooh, we were talking about romance weren't we ... 

It was a new charm for my bracelet. A teapot. 

You may be thinking that a teapot is a strange choice of present for a new job. It has a story. We went away to Harrogate to celebrate Mr B's birthday. On strict instructions from everyone we told about it, we went to Betty's Tearoom. If you haven't been there, you must go immediately. We played at being posh and having afternoon tea. We loved it so much we went back for breakfast. It was immense. I said I was going to get a little teapot charm to remind me of my trip to Betty's (and the life I shall be leading when I win the lottery). When I went to the shop for my teapot, it was closed. So, I decided I should spend the money on another treat ... a third trip to Betty's. 

Mr B spotted this. He saved it up until he had an excuse. Then ... HE BOUGHT ME MY TEAPOT. 

Marriage just doesn't get more romantic than that.

Dear People In General ...

Or more specifically, the tw*ts who have annoyed me today. 

I would like to make a few comments about your behaviour. 

Firstly, I would like you to note that administrative staff are not second class citizens. Seriously, write it down. Then memorise it. We are actual human beings. We are allowed to do all the same things as you. In fact, we often do more than you and we are better at it.We just don't get paid as much.  If we walked out of the office one day and never came back, you would fall flat on your arses. Remember this. 

Secondly, an apology which ends with "but I don't think I did anything wrong", does not count as an apology. It is just having another go. The only thing this achieves is to irritate me more. Irritating me is not a good plan. It will not end well for you. 

Thirdly, your behaviour today has led to you being removed from my lottery list: the list of people I would give a small portion of my jackpot winnings to, just so they didn't have to go to work at the Nightmare Factory any more. I would like you to pause and contemplate exactly what this means for you. I expect you are now feeling very sorry that you annoyed me. 

Finally, if you p*ss me off like this again, I promise I will stamp up and down on your head until you cannot remember your own name any more, let alone annoy another administrator as long as you live. 

Comprende?! 

Furious Regards, 

Mrs B x

Invaders ... Part One

Generally speaking, lungs are a good thing. They facilitate breathing and what not. Last year, I got the dreaded swine flu. It was essentially like having flu ... with knobs on. At the time, I had been working in my job for only three weeks, so I returned to work the second I was able to stand and function like a living being, instead of lying around as though I'd just been exhumed. As a result of returning to work far too soon, I caught a chest infection. This ended with me being carted away from work in an ambulance, getting rushed through A & E for a chest x-ray and various other tests and finding out that my lungs were aged twenty-one. I was twenty-four at the time. I was thrilled! 

Since this time, I have imagined that my lungs are generally having a party, celebrating a perpetual twenty-first birthday. Since the dreaded swine, every time I come into contact with a cold virus or anything vaguely similar, I get a bad chest. At this time, my lungs do not function adequately. In fact, it feels rather like the person who is usually partying in my lungs has set up a fire and is punching me repeatedly from the inside. When a bug gets really bad, I start hacking and coughing like I smoke a hundred cigarettes a day. Things start to move around my chest. They are little invaders. They are green and slimy and I hate them ... a lot. 

Did I mention that I hate them? Or that this is what my lungs have been doing to me all week? 

Wanted: New Husband

Mr B pretends to be an avid  reader of a rather intellectual newspaper. I say "pretends", because I found out yesterday that he does not necessarily read the intelligent parts of the paper. Yesterday, he was reading the personal ads. You know the ones for people desperately seeking husbands and wives (to anyone out there contemplating this course of action, I'd just like to say don't bother : husbands are not all they're cracked up to be). 
He was not reading the ads for himself. You would be forgiven for thinking that this is a good thing. 
He was, in fact, reading them to find someone new for me. For when he's finished with me you understand.I told him I didn't want another husband. Rather than finding this romantic, Mr B responded by asking if this meant I wanted a sex buddy. Not one to give up to those less intelligent than myself, I replied "no, I don't want another man at all". I thought this would clarify the point. It did not. Mr B proceeded to attempt to find me another woman, stepping up his search to include the personal ads on the internet. He was very excited to have found me a woman in our area. I am somewhat less thrilled. 
So, in response, here's a little personal ad of my own:
"Husband. Poor sense of humour. House-trained. Free to any home. If interested, contact Mrs B. Quick departure required."

ARGH: An Apology

Hello Readers, 

ARGH! I cannot believe it has been over a month since I posted something on here. There is no excuse. 

Here is a list of all the things that have happened which have kept me away from posting:

1. My grandparents Golden Wedding - living in the Land of No Internet prevents blogging in a very most serious way.

2. Applying for a new job - because p*ssing your life away on the internet is not at all conducive to writing a good job application. 

3. Spending time with my Aunty T and her lovely baby - because they live in NZ usually and it's nice to make an effort sometimes. 

4. My guinea pig, Skittles got sick and died - this led to a severe lack of funny and very little to write about. 

5. Job interview prep - again, because p*ssing your life away on the internet is not conducive to preparing well for an interview. 

6. More visiting of the NZ relatives - they flew 48hours to visit us. The least we could do is travel 2 hours to the Homeland and spend some time with them.

7. My grandparents dog died. 

8. Getting the job - well, we had to celebrate, didn't we?!

9. Mr B having a birthday - lots more celebrating and a weekend in Harrogate. 

10. Nana having an operation - to fix a broken shoulder. Cue lots of worrying and travel to the Homeland. 

ARGH. So, there you go. Many most apologies and I sincerely hope that normal service will be resumed shortly. 

Mucheos Loveos, 

Mrs B xxxxxxx