If you need help, ask for it. You’ll be surprised who might step forward with wonderful suggestions about 50 ways with tuna, for example, and so on. Do try it, it can be a lovely experience. Just don’t ring this help desk, well, not today, anyway.
You know when you just don’t know what you feel like for lunch? Sometimes you feel like a movie star, sometimes you feel like a baker, or even a truck driver. Ignore those feelings and get into bread, bread with anything on it at all. Okay, not yucky things like – well, I won’t say because I don’t want to insult the gourmands among you who may like those yucky things. Go ahead, buy a baguette and go wild.
Despite the headline up there, we all know that the humble yet fabulous cheesecake, could never be a burden, not even on your hips. Well, perhaps on your hips, but be selective, slice it thin like an after dinner mint (think how many thin slices you could have before you reach even an approximation of a full serving, think and feel all fluttery and happy).
Imagine how many millions, perhaps billions, of self-help texts there must be in the world. No, do not do that, you will become extremely depressed and need a self-help text to help you, which it won’t, obviously. I mean, look at the state of the world. So, why not move to Mars and read poetry instead? You know you want to.
Dr On Mars enjoyed a long career (an uncontrollable lurch downhill, as we in the trade like to call it) in public service before she left for the calmer and altogether redder climes of Mars. To celebrate the something-or-other anniversary of her escape, aka near-death experience, here’s a memory for you. (Former public servants, and meeting attendees of any stripe, please note well and save yourselves before you cross the threshold into a space from which there is no liberation).
What can it be about water coolers that attracts people, I wonder? Perhaps it’s the cool, blue water (blue?). Perhaps it’s the loveliness of a refreshing cold drink in summer. Perhaps it’s just the irresistible tuna flavour. Whatever it is, I’m queuing up for my turn, and if I learn to conga, samba, salsa, tango on the way, then so be it – I’ll be a fandangoing feline and proud of it.