On the bright side … at least I don’t have intestinal worms.


I must apologise. Here I thought S was a cheapskate, but I was mistaken. The Chardonnay cost 35 Ront. I am spoilt rotten. And I recognise the name of the cellar! (Yes, I am now pouring my own glass as we speak.)

Just took my evening meds with my 3rd glass of plonk. Aah, it is like the good old days all over again. I would like to interject here by saying that one of the main reasons I gave up my 2 (bottles)-a-day habit was financial – so that we could afford to send J to The Boy’s School in Port Elizabeth. So this little lapse in my ‘ros-be-a-good-girl’ habit is rather extra-ordinary. I promise that it will not happen again, until the next rejection. It is also for this reason (as well as maintaining my sanity, proving my self-worth and having something to discuss over the mac ‘n cheese in the evenings) that I am on the prowl for a profession.

But this whole Blue Monday saga really has left me with a yearning for the Cape Winelands and MY OWN CAKE SHOP. I admit it – I want to wear a red ribbon in my hair, with red lippy and red bows on my arse and shoes and be known around the land as the ‘Cupcake Aunty.’ People shall flock to my place of business, rosfromscratch, and queue to taste my wares … and ooh … and aah … about my brilliance in the baking department.

No. Really.

I also want to get paid for writing. I am willing to take a writing course if the professionals out there think that there is hope. And I want to get a free holiday to somewhere in the Western Cape – where the wine is quaffable and the food is borderline cuisine. I am prepared to name-drop and blog-plop (rebecca2000 – another word for your Beccapedia) in lieu of a freebie.

And since I am close to 800 views, I shall have to mention Toddlers ‘n Tiara’s. Yes – I like to keep my audience happy.

Interesting fact: Did you know that I once, not so long ago, puked out the car window, all the way down Cape Road, in PE, right past the Nando’s and Cassie’s – after a particularly intense job interview? I kid you not. That is a blog for another day, when I am once again, below the legal limit.

The fat lady has not been liquidated yet – she is off to bed … soon.

 

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