Mistress Mitty

Ow. Mistress returned to work this week. It was A-OK, peachy and mellow; mistress works with some very nice cats and dudes. I have been very busy at work and play. Had a meeting that went on for half a day.

At times it got rather passionate and heated so rather entertaining but sometimes it was kind of long and rambling and dull like a group of musos jamming, so mistress would start daydreaming, which is not very sound when she is in charge of taking detailed notes. She was awoken from one reverie by hearing someone speak hesitantly, thought it was Godfrey from Dad’s Army so she sat upright and looked upon speaker with interest and wondered if it were just his voice’s timbre that he shared with Godfrey, and started thinking of Godfrey’s posh background and his sister, Cissy, and less tasteful matters Godfrian. That chain of thought was broken by someone uttering an impassioned cry of “it is what it is”, rather nonsensical in itself but it made me start thinking of Stella Street and a scene featuring the fabulous impression of Al Pacino talking to Les the Geordie gardner.

Meeting ended and I seem to have got the most salient points and added a bit of colour to it all. So a win win situation. I'm proud of myself and ought to be congratulated. Sorry, channelling Smug McSuck, aka your least favourite smug acquaintance, and no, not the mistress, I know all roads and whatnot but smug is one adjective you cannot apply, mistress comes over all teflon with that one.

And today is Friday and the mistress does not to want be at work. According to Dr Sputnik she’s suffering from "Post partying and peregrination pessimism", which is a sound diagnosis. I feel all Sticky Fingers Stonesy really when I should be all uptight and shocking 80's Let's work and Hang fire Thatcherite Stonesy. Hey, Mrs T started out as member for Dartford, don't ye know.

Not long now till Mr Weekend arrives, as Aerosmith belted out in the 80’s (track 12 –Aerosmith rarities – yes have been introduced to the joys of Limewire; does this journey on the Information Super Highway ever end, kids?), and I’m dining out tonight with Stefanie Powers and checking out Jonty’s new digs. Saturday am pottering around the mansions and swotting for the Driver Knowledge Test. Sunday I’m visiting the olds for lunch and some filial dooties - pater's broken down yet again on the I.S.H.; He had Limewired Flanders and Swann, Nina and Frederick, when he got onto Jabberjaw Sutherland and the computer went spare.

Top weekend to ya.