![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
It's been a funny old week...
Husband has done something technical to the PC so that the first thing I see when I log on is the daily horoscope for Scorpio. I scoffed at these things in the recent meme, which may have been a mistake.
A large proportion of the week has been spent living with the plumber, who was supposed to be fixing the cold tap in my kitchen, and listening to his medley of songs from the musicals, headed by an interesting tenor rendition of Ol' Man River. He's had the sink dismantled, followed by the taps themselves, only to find that the impossible has happened, and a piece of metal that turns the tap on has split in half. I had to go out and buy a new tap, and Husband thinks I've bought solid silver ones at the price. When I rang to tell Ol' Man River, I found his answer phone plays I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair, which made me laugh so much I could barely leave a message.
My horoscopes for the days he was here were: "You will experience a drought of ideas or activity in areas you normally rely on" and "You may feel as if you're battling an elemental force currently, as well as other people's wanton disregard for what is immediately obvious."
I had an exciting time at the supermarket when the old lady in the queue behind me, having practically fallen into my trolley with interest, asked, very loudly, if I was one of them Celia's? I'd barely started with "It's dairy really..." when the entire queue, led by the woman on the check out, started to tell me the list of things they couldn't eat, and what happens to them if they do. I swear people came over from shorter queues just to join in.
My horoscope for that day was: "You'll find yourself the centre of attention, although it may be the thing you desire least at the time."
Yesterday was just one of those days when the world made a lot of effort to see how far it could push my Nice Button. Not least, when I answered the phone to Husband's colleague, and in reply to "What are you doing then?" (that means he wants to talk about what they're doing) mentioned seeing James Bond tomorrow (they'd been to opening night), having some minor work done on the house next year (they're drawing up plans for a large extension and a summer house/office), and possible holiday destinations (they're buying an apartment in Spain, and are spending Christmas in Australia. "Oh, good," I said). He then slagged off someone who's having a really tough time personally, which he must realise if he stopped thinking about himself for just one minute. I think I needed a chorus of Ol' Woman River; she keeps on rollin' along by the end of the day, having refrained from saying what I wanted to for much of it.
I nearly forgot to look at the horoscope, but remembered as I turned the PC off. "You'll have a quiet, but intensely satisfying day; much will be accomplished in directions you might not have anticipated at the start."
I knew it was a load of rubbish.
A large proportion of the week has been spent living with the plumber, who was supposed to be fixing the cold tap in my kitchen, and listening to his medley of songs from the musicals, headed by an interesting tenor rendition of Ol' Man River. He's had the sink dismantled, followed by the taps themselves, only to find that the impossible has happened, and a piece of metal that turns the tap on has split in half. I had to go out and buy a new tap, and Husband thinks I've bought solid silver ones at the price. When I rang to tell Ol' Man River, I found his answer phone plays I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair, which made me laugh so much I could barely leave a message.
My horoscopes for the days he was here were: "You will experience a drought of ideas or activity in areas you normally rely on" and "You may feel as if you're battling an elemental force currently, as well as other people's wanton disregard for what is immediately obvious."
I had an exciting time at the supermarket when the old lady in the queue behind me, having practically fallen into my trolley with interest, asked, very loudly, if I was one of them Celia's? I'd barely started with "It's dairy really..." when the entire queue, led by the woman on the check out, started to tell me the list of things they couldn't eat, and what happens to them if they do. I swear people came over from shorter queues just to join in.
My horoscope for that day was: "You'll find yourself the centre of attention, although it may be the thing you desire least at the time."
Yesterday was just one of those days when the world made a lot of effort to see how far it could push my Nice Button. Not least, when I answered the phone to Husband's colleague, and in reply to "What are you doing then?" (that means he wants to talk about what they're doing) mentioned seeing James Bond tomorrow (they'd been to opening night), having some minor work done on the house next year (they're drawing up plans for a large extension and a summer house/office), and possible holiday destinations (they're buying an apartment in Spain, and are spending Christmas in Australia. "Oh, good," I said). He then slagged off someone who's having a really tough time personally, which he must realise if he stopped thinking about himself for just one minute. I think I needed a chorus of Ol' Woman River; she keeps on rollin' along by the end of the day, having refrained from saying what I wanted to for much of it.
I nearly forgot to look at the horoscope, but remembered as I turned the PC off. "You'll have a quiet, but intensely satisfying day; much will be accomplished in directions you might not have anticipated at the start."
I knew it was a load of rubbish.
no subject
no subject
This is my horoscope for today: "Circumstances are about to change for the better, especially if you use the time between today and Monday's New Moon to tie up loose ends." So it sounds fairly promising, even though it doesn't definitely say I'll have a working tap soon, and though I'm apparently as concerned by the moon as Remus is, LOL.
no subject
no subject
no subject