Flotsam

Well, here I am, at work, playing desultorily with the international currency converter and feeling cross. I got to my office while it was still completely dark except for some pinkish bits at the edge of the sky. Also, I think there was still a star visible, which made me wild with indignation at having to be awake/dressed/productive so early. (Though I suppose said star could have been an airplane etc.)
Now I am sleepy. No amount of caffeine seems to remedy this. In addition, I am extremely put out that, according to Tertia, today is “Woman’s Day” in South Africa. Why cannot we have “Woman’s Day?” Why cannot we have “Alexa Day,” for that matter? Why are there pregnant women every 6-8 yards in my office? Does Human Resources have a Gestating Quota? Must they ALL waddle slowly in front of me on my way to the cafeteria for coffee? Also, I made the mistake of mentioning to An Unnamed Someone (who has had a miscarriage herself in the past) that I was feeling a tad glum about the fact that my due date is ten days away. She said sternly that I shouldn’t think about that, it wasn’t Healthy. Oh? Right, then! I’ll just put it out of my mind, you stupid cunt. (Have never written that word before, ever, feel both shocked at myself and delighted). Then she pointedly changed the subject…to how my diet is going. Well it is Day Two of said diet, and yesterday, on Day One, I used 36.5 “points”. I am allowed 20 “points”. The Wormtini is sounding better and better (note: Wormtini would be worth 3 points, not counting Worm). Things are not helped by the fact that there was yet another outbreak of peasant skirtedness among my fellow editors. I am in no mood. If anyone comes to my cube to bother me with their insipid insipidness, I may actually start hissing at them.