..when I dont look forward to a buffet lunch. Yup, pick your shocked jaws from the floor and uncrease the forehead. I have a buffet lunch with friends scheduled today and it is one I am not looking forward to. For one, I’d rather crawl home and go off to sleep. I kid you not. I know it sounds improbable, but tis true. And no, the pigs werent flying in the sky when I last looked. Probably, because the mamma pig wants to go right home to her piglet.
Is it the company? I dont think so. Most of the ladies I meet are fellow school gate mommies and we get along fine at the gate, to reveal our deepest darkest secrets to each other, including how much lack of restraint we display when confronted by eat all you can buffets and lycra fit jeans. Which expand comfortably to accommodate rabid and untamed ingestion of said food. No we dont have discussions that old friends do, including secrets one takes to graves and such like, but the meetings are nice and frothy enough for us to end up with silly grins plastered on our faces and emerge swaying lightheartedly through the stairway on the way out.
Is it the weather? Well it is hot enough to fry one’s brains on the pavement, without the added oil, which could well come from my pores, but seeing as one spends almost 80 per cent of one’s time in fan and aircondition cooled environs, that is no reason.
Could it be that the food doesnt tempt me anymore? That would be the day when hell really does freeze over. And no barbecues possible too!
I am tempted to stick a thermometer into said craw and examine temperature as well as take meself to the doctor to report this new and unusual phenomenon which will no doubt require extensive medical research conducted along with study groups and such like to figure out this new state of being, where yours truly is off lunching with the gals.
Or could it be something as simple as having had enough of it?