The Shepherd's Pie incident...

So, I have been quiet for a little while, eh? (Note here effective use of local phraseology with the word 'eh?', which Canadians drop at the end of almost every sentence to encourage conversational participation. Much in the same way British gangsta wannabes use 'innit?' i.e. 'it's good that, innit?' becomes 'it's good that, eh?' Aaaaanyway...

The reason for this prolonged silence has been twofold - one, my darling hubby has spent the last seven weeks recuperating from his surgery. Which basically means he has been horizontal with his legs in the air (and not in a way that benefits me...) whilst I have taken on role of main breadwinner and domestic goddess. Never has cleaning the loo looked so effortlessly fabulous... Two - sweet baby Jesus and the orphans, my new job is utter bedlam. Remember that job I had in my previous life where I drove up and down the country in my top-of-the-range Audi, banging the steering wheel to the latest Kylie tune and occasionally stopping to give the odd presentation and take a prospective client out to lunch? Well, talk about total 360; last week I was the reluctant recipient of a MAJOR ear-bashing for sending a client a Shepherd's Pie by mistake ('I don't LIKE ground beef, you fucking cunt!!!!'). This is just one example of the kind of thing that constitutes my work-day. Oh, the glamour.

But for every Shepherd's Pie incident there is a random act of gratitude that makes it all worthwhile. Take yesterday, for instance. One of my clients, a lovely old guy with some HIV drug-induced mental problems stops by the office to give me a small gift. Chocolates? Jewellery? A three course meal at the restaurant of my choice? No. A jar of pesto sauce. That's it. No wrapping paper or ribbon, no wicker basket with a complimentary bag of novelty shaped pasta - just a plain old jar of pesto. Why say it with flowers when you can say it with ground pine nuts, olive oil and parmesan?

I had a smile on my face all night :-)