Arms n stuff…

There probably isn’t anyone who is hungry for a slice of my life but here is one for the taking anyway.  I woke up at the crack of dawn.  I turned off my annoying A-Team themed alarm immediately and sprung out of bed.  I’m not the snooze button type – I don’t procrastinate getting out of bed, only because I can’t relax knowing that I have to get out.  It defeats the purpose.  So I sprung out physically (not mentally) and threw myself in the shower.

I left the house half an hour later. 

I was satisfied with the travel connections this morning.  I hate to put so much emphasis and weight on travel connections but I tend to think that your travel connections can sometimes indicate how the rest of your day will go.  I caught the bus after a sprint, and also caught the train by the skin of my teeth.   On the train I learned something new.  I learned the benefits of having long arms.  I don’t have long arms; I have very short arms…  Actually no, back up, back up… hang on now, in defence of myself they’re not very short arms at all; they go down as far as mid thigh like they’re "supposed to".  Somebody somewhere must have given me the impression that I had short arms, I have a feeling it was someone with long arms.   Maybe someone with long arms would say that they’re short but then I think that their arms are really long, so who’s arms are what?  What makes the person with long arms right and the person with short arms wrong or vice versa?  My arms are in proportion to me and that’s probably the best way of telling whether my arms are long or not.  There’s a lesson in this.  But just to be sure, I’m feeling an urge to measure my arms and if I could get away with it I would, but I am at work and these kinds of activities normally don’t go down without its share of unwelcome attention.  So the benefits of long arms are as follows:

Hugging everyone in your family at once

Standing in for a windmill

Opening the front door through the cat flap

Risk free sword fighting

Getting the kids ball back from the neighbours garden

Helping Santa deliver presents without climbing down the chimney

I walked through Borough market and got a whistle off a fella.  I thought it quite strange as I had my face in a paper bag.  In the paper bag was a pastry and I was eating it.  I don’t eat like a lady either.  I think he was taking the piss…

When I got to work I did a few bits of leisurely typing for my manager.  He then got a phone call to say that his Mother got run over by motor cycle courier, so he left.  Since then, I’ve been spending my time on Google Earth.  I been visiting all sorts of places, Africa, Ireland, Australia, Thailand, I’m off to check out France now… toodle pip!

P.S My Google Earth travelling expedition was interrupted once by the manager of a company we work alongside of, he handed me a bottle of red wine as a Christmas Present from the company…

Ah this is the life…