Not Meta Cross

So, I’ve always had this idea that if you’re really happy about something, you stop being bothered by the normal little irritants. You know the ones? They make you cross and then you get cross at yourself for being cross about something so trivial. In my world they usually involve children. Or paperwork.

I *ought to* (troublesome phrase!) be floating through these days, with rainbows coming out my bum, or something. In 21 days we’ll be on the way to Phuket, and from there to Australia, and then who knows? Bali and New Zealand for sure. Maybe some more of Thailand, perhaps home via the Galapagos Islands and the USA, or maybe Italy- suggestions gratefully received!

I should be… well, you get it. And I’m not. And here’s the thing, I’m okay with not! So where I’m normally cross, and then meta-cross, now I’m cross and then not meta-cross. For the win!

Plus, there’s this. Last week, I wore my swimming costume back to front, at our local pool. It was half-term, and I counted about 80 people in the water. I pretty much expect nobody even looked at me, but I kind of wonder about embarrassment, and whether I ought to have felt some, and also whether I ought to think twice about putting these photos here. But you know, it’s just too funny. I kept thinking “Hello, boobs, what’s going on?” and trying to decide if I’d accidentally tumble-dried the costume, or something.

Good job I’m not in charge of much.

 

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