It rained on Monday. It was lovely, even if a few drivers on the roads drove as if they were suddenly moved to Lima.
Friend is a health-nut that goes overboard. The latest fad that was rooted into her head was a juice-cleanse. It was supposed to reset her system and remove toxins. It sounded dangerous to be drinking juice and eating nothing for five days and I told her so. She was all strong and determined about it, so there was nothing to be done. There was nothing to be done while I watched her obsessively juicing beets and greens. At least, I could do nothing about it until she daintily fainted at her desk. I bought her lunch at an Italian place and she wolfed down creamy pasta while I chimed in with my ‘I-told-you-so’s. Hopefully, this has ended the obsessive relationship she had with her Vitamix.
She did manage to lose 5-6 pounds.
Will see the suffragette film tomorrow. I have held a keen interest in that history for a few years. It is likely the film is dramatically untrue to the actual movement, but I am going for Meryl Streep. I am yet to get over her acting in Osage County. I also have a soft-spot for older women who look classy and dominant, and come across as if they have put their lives together after a great deal of struggle.
I walked into work on Monday morning to find the new hire, bleary-eyed and caffeinated, staring at data logs. NIN’s Closer was playing on the speakers.
“Can I help?” I asked, feeling unexpectedly overcome by sympathy, which is a rare thing on Monday mornings.
On cue, a tormented Reznor entreated hoarsely, “Help me!”
“You get me closer to God!”
It put into mind a crucified monkey. Not at all the sort of help I was prepared to offer. So I first went and switched that for Debussy, luckily before the screechy instrumental section started. I did manage to help afterwards, showing him the magic of regex to search for what he was trying to find through tonnes of logs.