Hi everybody,
Perky the Busy Bee back on line this week !
Come on, don't you remember me ?
The tireless blunderer, the incorrigible diet-breaker, the lousy cook, the
' black-thumbed ' gardener, and the ' lower than low level ' sporty girl whose adventures help you look on the bright side of things !
Does my name ring a bell, now ?
Yes ? Great, then !
For the new-comers on line today, no need to worry : this week's post will drive you right into the swings of things within a few lines. So, don't skip off my page !
First off, kudos to Canaille, my English Springer Spaniel, who filled my shoes and blogged for me while I was on a carefree staycation.
He kept the tempo up all Summer long, so now he really needs to get back to his doggy's humdrum routine.
Don't get me wrong ! He lives with two dogaholics,and long walks, mouth-watering meals, power naps, endless cuddles, and, of course, scrummy treats will be his lot ! Nothing to do with Joe Bloggs's humdrum routine !
Halcyon days till Christmas season, cause then I may ask him to lend me a paw again ( a hand in human language) and resume his woofing blogging job.
Enough waffle now, let's get down to brass tacks.
I've got a question for you !
How do you beat back-to-work blues ?
Sure, you know what I'm talking about ! The gloomy feeling floating around when time comes to bid farewell to long-awaited vacation.
I guess no one enjoys going back to the grindstone after a fun-filled break, and even if now I'm as keen as mustard to make a fresh start, things used to be quite different some years ago.
That Summer had been just fun and frolic everyday. You know that kind of holidays you remember all your life.
Unfortunately, all good things come to an end, and that year, once more that damned saying proved to be right, and time came to pack and leave. I didn't want to, but what could I do ?
Sprain my ankle ? Ouch, too painful for a softie like me !
Catch a sunstroke ? No way ! The foul weather of the last few weeks ruined my lame excuse !
A sudden attack of amnesia ? My temp job would never turn into a permanent contract !
I racked my brain, in vain !
I had to face the facts : I couldn't escape my fate. I was doomed to go back to Paris and work !
On my departure day, to cheer me up, my friends came to the station to see me off.
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We arrived there 2 hours ahead of time. So, instead of pacing up and down the ominous platform, we decided to have dinner in a nearby eatery.
The meal went on so cheerfully that by the dessert I had already made up my mind : one very last clubbing and I would take the morning train and go straight to the office. I wouldn't be fired for missing half-a-day.
We danced through the night, and on the journey back to Paris, I slept like a log.
I guess I was not widely awake when I stepped into my boss's office, otherwise I could have said that I had hit the snoozze button again and again, and eventually overslept.It could have made sense.
Forget about that cast-iron excuse !
Instead, I said that the night before I had not been able to get on the train because it was overcrowded.
In those days you didn't need to book before travelling by train.
I was thinking I was off the hook, when a sharp question dampened my hopes ...
" Which train was it ? ", my boss asked.
" The 11pm from Quimper, sir ", I answered, a bit taken aback.
" Funny ", he replied, " I got on it at the first stop after Quimper and it
was nearly empty ".
Jeez, I got red as a beetroot, and felt so ashamed of my pathetic lie that I could feel my nose growing like Pinocchio's.
Then, he gave me a wink and added :
" But, maybe the 11pm train was a ghost train ..., now get cracking,
lady ! ".
Phew ! I got away quite nicely, but since then I have kept in my mind that a fault confessed is half redressed (a word to the wise is enough).
Now, I'm expecting your comments and your tips and tricks to beat back-to-work blues with flying colours !
You're welcome on :
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