Livin’ la vida loca with Lilsister and Mammy, I’m at the table tapping away while they bloat in the living room watching really bad Australian soaps. We’ve just finished inhaling a LOT of takeaway food – I have removed the belt from my jeans, Lilsister has opened the buttons on her trousers and Mammy is sitting comfortably in tracksuit bottoms.
This seems as good a time to introduce you to Fred, Lilsister’s ever-present friend. When Lilsister folds the creases of her stomach, they look like a smiley face with eyes. Fred is Lilsister’s lifelong friend, and occasionally, unfortunately, he comes out when she eats a carb heavy takeaway. He’s out at the moment, and it’s enough to make a girl want to diet. If you’re really lucky, and Lilsister is feeling particularly helpful, she will put a smoke in Fred’s mouth and let him party it up. I myself have far worse bellies and bumps to worry about, but have the common sense to keep them well hidden.
Another tough week at work grinds to a close, and luckily today it was someone’s birthday, so we got to eat a lot of chocolate cake. The girl in question also had her work ”station” adorned with balloons and silver banners, and this gave me an opportunity to threaten my team members with death should they do the same to me on my birthday. Birthdays are a huge deal in my team, possibly due to the food, and the fact that while we eat it we don’t have to talk to customers, who are all mad, bad and horrific to know. My delightful teammates are now threatening to not only put up balloons up but make sure that they are pink and big and basically the opposite of what a then 38 year old woman should have at her own work ”station”. But I’m not there yet, I’m 37 and four fifths, and that is fine with me.
Plans for the weekend include possibly looking at clothes (I am in dire need) and the investigation of a new 99 cent shop which Mammy has told myself and Lilsister about, and which we are therefore most excited about. See, told you I’m living la vida loca.
Happy Saturdays to you my dear.