No, not real baby related [at least this first part] …
Despite my newly regained joie de piss off, I seem to have retained a little teensy sense of masochism: I just submitted Quarter Rest for a smacking by the ladies at I talk too much [yes, ‘ladies’ – they haven’t smacked me yet]. It may take a while, what with the lengthy queue, but I’ll survive the wait and, hopefully, the smacking.
We’ll just see if Quarter Rest survives…
I am, for the second week in a row, skipping out on choir because I am, for the second Wednesday in a row, feeling generally shitty.
I did warn everyone that my attendance may falter as all energy, food and [occasionally] brain cells are redirected to the
apparent freeloader growing baby. However, it now appears more likely that my attendance will be sparser than anticipated and, so, more detrimental to the group than beneficial to me.
Ain’t I sweet? Or is that: lazy.
I’ll have to phone the director tomorrow and plead exhaustion. She’s a soon-to-be grandma: she’ll get it.