I was really happy to see again this morning that the Globe and Mail shares my predilection for the humble rubber duckie. Curiously enough, they had this thumbnail photo leading to a video of real life ducks who got stuck somewhere.
Hmm. Perhaps I should send them a photo essay of my little family? They could become famous!
I’m a bit scattered today because I just received some good news. I’m starting a new job on 1 August as a supervisor of the venerable “lawyers of last resort” who provide last minute legal services to tenants facing eviction at the Landlord and Tenant Board. Best part: my office will be in the same building I’m working in now, one floor up – close to Romni, bead shops, etc! So, three guesses where the little pay raise will be spent and the first two don’t count.
I’m so chuffed that I’m thinking about making myself a fabulous Robot Cake:
I mean, I’d really rather be at the beach:
…or starting up my new “goal-oriented sex” exercise plan that I read about this morning in the Globe:
Yes, yes – wishful thinking, I know. But humour me, please. I know I will never have the opportunity to engage in daily “exercise” with James Bond… but could someone explain to me just what the hell is “goal-oriented sex”, anyway? What “goal” can there be (aside, in the heterosexual context, of either pregnancy or avoidance of same)? Do we have to have “goals” for everything now, for Goddess’ sake? Can’t some things just be fun?
Sometimes I despair of the 21st century, really I do.
Time to go and shop for some green frosting for my robot cake now. A bientot!