You don’t have to come home after a long weary day and stand in a 5 litre navy blue bucket, toes curling up the one side, holding a shower head as close to you as possible so as to avoid the post-soap-down clean-up of the entire bathroom as the level rises faster than that of the swimming pool at fat camp.
You haven’t twisted and contorted in ways which, in other careers, could earn you an extra 50 quid an hour, just managing to get all the important bits, only to realize you still have to exfoliate, shave, wash your hair and brush your teeth. And Nicole Ritchie’s probably eaten 4 meals since you derobed. Go and give your calculator a hug. Go on.
30 October 2006
Reason To Love Your Job No. 1
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2 comments:
Thanks a whole heap. My calculator just sued me for sexual harassment.
Clearly you didn't press all the right buttons.
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