![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nineveh_uk* It is week 7 at work, which is really week 8 because we have a week 0. The building water supply is contaminated with Serious Germs. The taps are taped up. We can use the toilets + anti-bacterial hand gel (no, thank you) or go to another building. Not next door, they've now got the same problem... What joy it is. On the plus side, my unexpected last hour of the day yesterday spent getting running round trying to arrange things to get someone whose visa'd passport had been stolen back into the country this lunchtime ended up working, so that was good. Since this person wasn't actually one of our employees, I am expecting a small box of chocolates to turn up in return. Mostly, though, my work thoughts are occupied in hoping to avoid Intestinal Doom, for which the incubation period is now extended.
* Is this a mid-life crisis? I appear to re-visiting my teenage years. The vampire musical watching turned into re-reading Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles, and that was all very well (I still hate Lestat, a man who deserves to be murdered many times over, and since he is a vampire, can be), but then at the weekend I bought a pair of trousers, and… There is nothing wrong with these trousers. They are excellent trousers and I shall wear them on Christmas day and for going to the theatre when I can’t be bothered with a dress and so on, which is what I bought them for. They are black with that sort of damask effect that is about at the moment, and they fit nicely and suit me well.
It’s just that I realised when trying them on again at home that I could cosplay a vampire count in them. Especially when added to the black blouse with big sleeves and beads on it (Laura Ashley late 90s) and dark red velvet waistcoat (Dorothy Perkins mid 90s) that lurk at the bottom of a suitcase in case I find myself needing a random fancy dress costume. At least I don't own a Dracula wig.
* Speaking of clothing... Does your suit jacket constrict your movements when you want to leap mighty buildings in a single bound, exercise your licence to kill while drinking a martini, dance cheek to cheek, or merely play the violin? A high armscye is the answer! I suspect that it also contributes to why Peter Wimsey can't pick up a napkin with a couple of broken ribs. On a more mundane level, you can see this effect in action on your non-Savile Row clothes by comparing e.g. the greater arm-movement you get in a tight leather jacket compared to an elasticated T-shirt with low arm-holes.
* In a fortnight's time I shall be on annual leave for Christmas! This is both good and bad... There is quite a lot to do before Christmas. I am suffering from tree indecision. After my last real tree bit the dust after 2014, failing to survive the next year, I resolved I would buy an artificial one, which is really more convenient when you're going to be away from home for nearly a fortnight. And yet I have not done so. The problem is, the artificial ones don't smell. I did the artful bunch of painted twigs last year, that isn't the same, either.
* The OTW seems to be making a fascinating hash of things.
* Is this a mid-life crisis? I appear to re-visiting my teenage years. The vampire musical watching turned into re-reading Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles, and that was all very well (I still hate Lestat, a man who deserves to be murdered many times over, and since he is a vampire, can be), but then at the weekend I bought a pair of trousers, and… There is nothing wrong with these trousers. They are excellent trousers and I shall wear them on Christmas day and for going to the theatre when I can’t be bothered with a dress and so on, which is what I bought them for. They are black with that sort of damask effect that is about at the moment, and they fit nicely and suit me well.
It’s just that I realised when trying them on again at home that I could cosplay a vampire count in them. Especially when added to the black blouse with big sleeves and beads on it (Laura Ashley late 90s) and dark red velvet waistcoat (Dorothy Perkins mid 90s) that lurk at the bottom of a suitcase in case I find myself needing a random fancy dress costume. At least I don't own a Dracula wig.
* Speaking of clothing... Does your suit jacket constrict your movements when you want to leap mighty buildings in a single bound, exercise your licence to kill while drinking a martini, dance cheek to cheek, or merely play the violin? A high armscye is the answer! I suspect that it also contributes to why Peter Wimsey can't pick up a napkin with a couple of broken ribs. On a more mundane level, you can see this effect in action on your non-Savile Row clothes by comparing e.g. the greater arm-movement you get in a tight leather jacket compared to an elasticated T-shirt with low arm-holes.
* In a fortnight's time I shall be on annual leave for Christmas! This is both good and bad... There is quite a lot to do before Christmas. I am suffering from tree indecision. After my last real tree bit the dust after 2014, failing to survive the next year, I resolved I would buy an artificial one, which is really more convenient when you're going to be away from home for nearly a fortnight. And yet I have not done so. The problem is, the artificial ones don't smell. I did the artful bunch of painted twigs last year, that isn't the same, either.
* The OTW seems to be making a fascinating hash of things.