My Mediterranean Summer

Returning home at five, I’m a prisoner in a wheeled metal furnace. Air steams; my body melts. A fly hums drowsily, fogging my brain with dreams of cold water sizzling on my tongue.

For Trifextra.  I put this in the present because it is something I am experience everyday.  The AC in my car doesn’t work.  I hate Summer.  I hope you got that.  Spring; now that is a season!

Office Blues

As I write this I am sitting in the office, my office, which I share with two other lovely people, who today are both on leave and I am left here on my own to cope with the barrage of orders and paperwork the immensity of which baffles me in this virtual world.

I cope by whining and whinging.  It’s the fight or flight kicking in, only in an office environment you do not really fight-fight, and there is nowhere to fly to.  Continue reading