Hi there Dear Reader,
How’s it going?
mm hmm, really? wow! Thanks for the update.
If you can’t already tell by the previous sentence I may have gone a little mad.
Turns out I am not very good at multitasking, which is not ideal when I am combining a pretty stressful day job, ice-skating training (yes this is still happening), writing this little bubble of joy AND now writing for Time Out. You’d think I’d be so busy I wouldn’t have time to eat but somehow I have managed to maintain my cuddly exterior.
Sod’s blimmin law.
Thank you for all your patience with me yelling at you about the UK Blog Awards. You’ll be pleased to know that voting has now closed so I cant harass you about it any more. Feel free to put away your stress balls and voodoo dolls in my image, I will be nice from now on I promise!
I did something very stupid today. At work we use statistics a lot to calculate people’s life expectancy. In a moment of sheer madness I decided to put in my own date of birth and see how long I have left to live.
If you ever feel tempted to do this, trust me. Don’t!
I’ve been very nice about this so far and if you have voted already I am eternally grateful! If you haven’t – today is the last day to vote for Sophie, She Wrote in UK Blog Awards. I will love you forever if you do. I will hold a grudge against you forever if you don’t.
They have had nearly 40,000 votes for 2000 entries. There is no way I can compete with that – but I am damn well going to try!
Please vote for my blog here
Let Me Here You Say Way-Oh…”
If you just sang “Way-Oh” to yourself, congratulations you have passed the test. We are clearly kindred spirits and you are allowed to continue reading at your leisure. Continue reading
Previously on “Sophie, She Wrote”…
…I had what I thought was quite an amusing email correspondence with a certain supermarket.
One guy wasn’t very happy about it.
This is his story. Continue reading
Do you ever do something just for the hell of it and because you think maybe, possibly, someone, somewhere will find it funny?
And then they don’t.
This is what I panicked about after sending my complaint to Waitrose. Oh God, what if they think I am a moron? What if I don’t even get a response? What if they tell Delia Smith and I am banned for life from every Waitrose ever? Continue reading