On Monday, as you would know, I was not feeling myself. A little out of sorts, but all better now that I had a little whinge, processed it and moved on. Because of this out of sorts behaviour, I may or may not have indulged, a little too much some would say, on my latest obsession – raspberry licorice covered in milk chocolate. Like little red bullets. Oh my are they good. Those and some choc covered sultanas. It’s fruit don’t you know?
So I had really gone to town on these two, medically speaking, to make myself feel better and I felt a little woozy to be honest. I hopped into the lift and was making that polite chit chat that you do in a lift with people that you work with. Well, you know the saying “I’m up to Pussy’s bow” or “up to Dolly’s wax” to describe feeling really full? Like you can’t possibly eat anymore? I LOVE those sayings and say them often. However. When asked how I was, and when I answered “up to pussy’s wax” in a lift full of work colleagues I was a little, shall we say, embarrassed. I blushed and tried to get out of there as quickly as possible, whilst trying to explain myself and not without getting the giggles uncontrollably and inappropriately. Nice one Beth, nice one.
Which takes me to scene 2. Another meeting later that afternoon. Now I work in a big company where there are lots of meetings and steering committees and acronyms and projects with funny names that are acronyms that mean something I am sure. I was discussing one such acronym – TAWT report. But I kept and I mean about 3-4 times calling it a TWAT report instead. I was even asked what I said and then I looked around and said “TWAT report. What do you mean?” Then I saw the error of my ways. Again. More blushing and more giggles.
Which in turn led to more bullets and sultanas…to make myself feel better you know?