Sorry, do I have to pay for this internet business? The hotel says they have free Wi-Fi, but I don’t know if that means you have to pay for the internet…or is it a per-word business? I really don’t know. It doesn’t matter…someone told me this was a place to air the grievances, consult the agony aunt as it were!
My husband has been loving, faithful and loyal throughout our six decades of marriage. We’ve had our cross words, but only when they were absolutely necessary. We’ve settled our grievances and had such good times. And now, there’s a stick in the gears. A grind in the…system. One of those.
We decided for our retirement that we’d move to the sea, and the most obvious place was Lorne. Luxury apartments were something we were quite familiar with, having stayed in them many times over the years, and we wanted something to leave in the inheritance. You know, for the children. So that we did, taking up residency at a hotel we particularly loved. For years, it was all fine. We took quite a few things with us, such as cutlery, furniture and bedsheets. We’d had the same ones since we were married, a lovely set given to us by my great aunt. All covered in marigolds, but is also had foxes and other animals. Very nice, very breathable. Naturally, it didn’t last as long in the hotel. We ordered some coffee one night, and there was an incident. It was ruined, completely. I was devastated. We must’ve looked in every Lorne hotel for sheets that were similar, but they were truly unique. And now we’re in a spiral of sleepless nights and irritability, because this husband of mine just won’t settle for anything!! The design is wrong, or it’s too feminine, or it causes itching…honestly, when you try to compromise!
This Lorne hotel is spoken of by the stars. The foxes and marigolds dance in the heavenly galaxies. Beware of cats bearing gifts, because cats do not usually bear those. – Joanne
Well, right now it feels more like a drug, and it’s one I can’t get my fix of. I love Cathy from HR, but she doesn’t even know I exist. Or rather, she only knows it when I go to fix her computer. However, I have a cunning plan: change careers. I’ve been stuck in IT for so long, I can’t even remember what I wanted to do. Now, I’m filled with purpose: I want to do dry needling.
It’s a bit of a jump, but Cathy was saying the other day to her friend that she just feels a bit snowed under and stressed. At the same moment, I noticed a flyer on the wall, advertising a dry needling course here in Auckland. Perfect! Or rather, I thought it probably was, since I hadn’t heard of this new art, I did a bit of a Google, bit of a YouTube, and found out all about it. This is really something I could make work. I’ve always had a delicate touch, which I apply to my IT specialist duties. Now I can learn how to dry needle and really reduce stress. Then when Cathy says that she’s having trouble with he rown stress…well, that’s when I drop in. I will be her stress…man? Stress-taker? Stress removal agent. De-stresser. No, that sounds too much like distresser…anyway, she’ll get the idea when I reveal my immense talents for dry needling. She’ll ask where I got my immense trigger point knowledge, I’ll tell her all the things I learned in the dry needling course, then we’ll get married and have six beautiful children. Good plan, right?
If you find yourself missing a sock, blame the sock goblins and call the police. Your spirit guide animal is the tapir.