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I held the phone to my ear thinking “What just happened here? It’s gone quiet.”
I continued to hold the phone to my ear.
“Was I just hung up on??” I said out loud in disbelief.
Still holding the phone, I’m thinking this could not possibly be the case. Why on earth would she hang up on me? What exactly did I say anyway? I remember laughing and being slightly silly just a moment ago but not offensive. Was she offended? What the hell did I say?
I gave the phone a slight *whack*
Still nothing.
I put the phone down and walked back to my desk thinking, “She actually hung up on me! She quietly set the phone back down and hung up on me. Not a word, not anything, not even Okay I’m hanging up on you now or piss of I’m hanging up. I was taking the mickey out of her as I always do…as WE always do when we chat on the phone and she bloody hung up on me!”
Somewhat annoyed, and also feeling a little embarrassed for being hung up on, I went and made some tea (as you do) and stomped back to my office with the spoon clink clink clinking against the side of my tea cup still thinking “I can’t believe she fecking hung up on me!”
“What the frig was that all about?!?” I said out loud just as big boss walked past my door and to whom I just waved away when he looked as if he might want to pop in but to his credit kept walking.
I stewed over this for exactly ten minutes before deciding that I was not going to take responsibility for someone else’s shite mood and that I was going to forget it and get on with my day. I am not pleased when things like this happen as soon as I arrive in the office, it sets the tone for the day. Well I wasn’t going to let that premenstrual pain in the ass get on my tits today, no sir.
Lucky for me I was resigning my position at 10:00 that very same morning. I had bigger, happier things to think about.
see more crazy cat pics
Shopping in New York is is a sport. No really, it is. That is to say if you can get past the horrid stuck up saleswomen and hours of trying to get one of the stick insects to help you. What is it with New York women? Do they all live tiny reruns of Sex in the City in their heads? Do they actually think that wearing a pink tank top and a tutu is appropriate for lunch at, say oh I don’t know, a bagel shop? Before anyone gets all huffy, yes I know not ALL city girls are like this.
It was in China Town that I had the most fun shopping. Never mind that everything is seven for ten dollars, but there is so much to choose from! As always, upon returning home I instantly regretted not purchasing massive quantities of the fab hoodie I bought with dragons and cool shit all over it. It was 12 dollars. 12 dollars!! For a hoodie! That would cost £50! What was I thinking! I could have sold them on ebay and made a small fortune! What a dope! What’s with all the “!!!!”? Well, I did have a great time shopping. The most interesting thing that happened to me in China Town was this. You don’t want to mess with the Asians.
I bought so many things for other people that I realized far too late (i.e. when I was on the plane) that I bought only one thing for myself. The Tattooed Man benefited from all this generosity and “totally digs” the “awesome” things I brought back for him. He said he was so well chuffed that he “could pee with excitement”. This is why I adore the man.
So, it’s back to real life now that the jet lag has finally subsided and I’m back to work. I see that the 7th Level of Hell hasn’t changed much while I was away but there is an interesting work offer on the table that is unexpected and could prove to be very exciting. I don’t want to jinx it so will keep mum about it for now.
Righty-ho I’m off. My bloke is about to pop over for dinner and that may be the curry burning. Maybe it’s just the cat. Who can tell.
