I’ve been reconsidering a temporary return to The Desk.
I know. I know.
I could not have planned this to be any more ironic than it is. Next week is the first year anniversary since Life After Desk began (timekeepers can be assured the desk-shackles were shed after the first week in August 2007, I was just a bit tardy setting up the blog). And what do people usually mark first year anniversaries with? Paper! Which, to the desk hound, is as nails are to the chippy. I am sitting amidst so much irony I could be a laundry-wench.
There is no question that I will still be liberating bubbles to mark the occasion. Even though it is not bubble drinking weather. And even though I
And I will still be sailing with Pelican. (For as long as they'll have me.)
I am not giving up the quest for an alternative existence. This is just me rationalising my need to squirrel away a few more acorns for Le Grande Plann (I will share very soon), by submitting to a temporary return to that forgotten shiny world where you can wear a dress and order coffee. Where you have somewhere to be and people expect stuff from you. Where it is not OK to wear ugg boots every day.
Maybe it will be called Life And Desk. Hehe!
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