A very wise friend of mine religiously takes his birthday off, every year. On one particularly gruelling Thursday last week, when my hate for work was at extraordinary levels, I decided to introduce the same policy. So I took Monday the 4th off.
I sat in a backstreet cafe and ate scrambled eggs whilst reading the paper. I had a 'good' haircut (as opposed to the disaster cut of three weeks ago). I ate my favourite Japanese food (okonomiyaki) covered in mayonnaise and mystery brown sauce, with some of my favourite ex-Japan people. I drank my favourite beer (Asahi) and at the end of a great day, I enjoyed tea and a Selfridges carrot cupcake.
I sat in a backstreet cafe and ate scrambled eggs whilst reading the paper. I had a 'good' haircut (as opposed to the disaster cut of three weeks ago). I ate my favourite Japanese food (okonomiyaki) covered in mayonnaise and mystery brown sauce, with some of my favourite ex-Japan people. I drank my favourite beer (Asahi) and at the end of a great day, I enjoyed tea and a Selfridges carrot cupcake.
The following day I returned to work a much more pleasant person. And a year older. And with a pair of reading glasses. But I'm still too emotional to talk about that yet.
glasses? what the truck? when did you suddenly go blind?
ReplyDeleteSince office jobs wrecked both my eyes and my will to live...
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