Friday the Thirteenth happened to me today. So,
1. I was stuck in a meeting for four hours at Cuffe Parade, but couldn't get to meet the person I wanted to. (Strictly work related, you understand.)
2. I dashed away from the four-hour long wait without lunch to wait again for another hoity-toity floozie, and had to wade through a maniac mob in order to get him to say the things I wanted to hear. (Again, strictly work-related, you see.)
3. Missed Boy's phone calls twice, while I was waiting/dashing, so I felt guilty about that, since the poor dear is taking time away from his soddy relatives in Dubai to call me every day.
4. Finally, after getting my floozies to open their mouths (no puns intended, really!) I had lunch. Which basically means, my diet resolution flew to the winds. German strudles with dollops of fresh whipped cream. Boy will murder me if I compare it to sex, so I won't.
5. Came back to the office with a murderous headache.
6. Realized there was an emergency event in the evening, so I couldn't go back home by six as I had planned.
Buuuuuuuuuuuutttttttt....
There's an angel watching over me up there (or in Dubai!) after all, cuz,
1. My handling of the emergency evening event went off very well.
2. Boy finally got through to me on the third try, and we exchanged the usual mushy stuff. (Excuse me while I giggle in appropriate coquetish terms now.)
3. Staying back at work meant that I went though all the blogs in my chain at the left, something which I haven't been able to do in a very long time!
4. And yes, I found this simply delectable pic of Ricky Martin on the net.
Shush, and don't breathe a word of this to Boy!
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