IdleBones

Dancing Fees.

I got to bed late last night, having worked online till 2am. Red eyed and tired I crept into the bedroom so as not to wake Finn, and as quietly as possible, got undressed and climbed in beside her in the dark. I had been working on my CV, amongst other things, painfully attempting to put down on paper what I hope employers will want to hear. (well Mr B, why do you feel the need to change jobs? Well, I've grown tired of feeling ill twice a day, long, pointless early morning journeys to badly planned projects, spending half my life wearing suitcase-shaped shirts and waking up to the sound of chambermaids' hoovers clattering against the door. Apart from that, everythings just rosy and I just fancy a new "Challange". Yes that's the word: "Challange". Alomost makes it sound as though I really want things to get harder, dosen't it?). Not very convinced by my first draft. Must try harder, says my report card.

Finn gives out a little moan in her sleep, as if I have interupted her train of though, and rolls over, now facing me. "MMmmmM---you haven't paid the dancing fees--mmmmMMm", she mumbles, in an almost hurt little .voice. "pardon?", say I. "Dancing fees. I paid but you didn't--MMmmm--they'll be after you..--MmmmmM--Knives--Mmm". I go immediately into male mode and try rewinding the last week in my head to try and find where I may have forgotten something, while repeating the words "Dancing Fees?" over and over again, as if saying them at different speeds might make them seem more familiar. In the I'm satisfied that I have nothing to worry about as regards forgetting some important event, and feel confident enough to ask her what on earth she is on about, "Dancing Fees?".

10.3.06 13:12