Two Little Things

You probably took a four-day weekend, didn’t you, you holiday-lovin’ cuckoos. Didn’t you! That’s nice. You deserve it. And now that you’re back in the saddle or the swing, or whatever you sit on to do your job, you don’t want to rush into whatever’s waiting for you on your desk or whatever surface contains the detritus of your appointed tasks. You just want to ease into the week and daydream about this coming Wednesday night’s prix fixe dinner-and-dancing combo package. You don’t want to have to think too much, and I can’t say I blame you. Thinking leaves indelible stains on your mind carpet anyway.
So because I have your best interests at heart (as usual), I will not burden you with philosophical conundrums that will tax your intellect. I will just supply you with two teensy tiny wee little items, so you can fill your uncluttered mind with happy thoughts of sequins, champagne, and that special lucky someone you hope to smooch when the big ball drops.
Here are your two items, randomly selected from the grab bag of my poisoned brain:

  1. Never tell me “a little birdie” told you something. If you do, I will say “bye bye” before you can tell me what that something is.
  2. No one is ever young enough to call the bathroom the “little boys” or “little girls” room.

Now go back to the J. Crew mail order catalogue you have hidden beneath your spreadsheets and try to convince yourself that monograms aren’t revolting. And enjoy the three Christmas cookies you smuggled from the conference room to your desk in the big file you’ve been carrying through the halls to look like you’re already busy busy busy on the job on this, your first day back from your four-day whirlwind holiday weekend!
Oh, and by the way … I love your new sweater!