Thursday, 7 June 2012

Mirror Mirror

It just so happens that in both households where I work, they have recently had a delivery of big mirrors from overseas.  Now, I like to choose my mirrors with care.  At fifty, the surprise reflection can throw back your dad in a bad wig, or Jabba the Hutt on a good day.  I approach mirrors with stealth and the best lighting possible.  This afternoon I've been sat opposite a mirror that made me want to cry, or dissolve fattily between the floorboards.  OK, nobody looks good on the floor, it's true.  Unless it's dark.

In other news, My File at the Agency has been sent out to three companies who are seeking staff.  This made me laugh in a sort of reckless, giddy way.  Fucking bring it on.  Presumably I wouldn't have to sit on the floor opposite a large mirror in any other job.  Unless it was some weird, niche, exotic dancer job.


  1. Am giggling - you just hit the spot - recognition! (Sinking into depression now after your comment about dads and bad wigs hits home...)

  2. I know, it's awful isn't it?

  3. All mirrors are evil, it's a fact. Just ignore them, they like to give nasty jibes.
    Someone nominated me for a Versatile Blogger Award - I was very excited (even though it's not an actual physical award like a big cup that you can drink out of or wear on your head or Ebay when you get bored of it.) Anyway it turns out it's something that's more like recommending good blogs so I've nominated yours on mine as you are far more mighty and deserving a blog writer than me xxx

  4. Mirrors are indeed bastards, except the few that make me look nice.

    And thank you! I am prolific if nothing else. Not sure about versatile, although I do cover a wide range of subjects from poo to swans.