Avast, me hearties. It be talk like a pirate day, me hearties.
I be resisting the urge to open my mouth in the office, me hearties, for fear that my co-workers will think that I am mad.
Me hearties.

I used to wear a lot of make-up in my teens, and I was pretty good at applying it, although I may have lacked subtlety. Think colourful goth.
I wore glasses then, and I always thought it spoiled the effect.
When I started work I gradually stopped wearing so much, because I was too lazy to put it on in the mornings. And anyway, what was the point in that godawful hospital kitchen?
Now I find it uncomfortable. Eye make-up makes my eyes feel hot and sticky, and foundation/face powder makes my cheeks and forehead look and feel dry. This is the case no matter what brand I use, although I don’t use really expensive stuff, so maybe that would work better. But as I hardly wear it, there’s no point splashing out, is there?
I don’t seem to be able to wear make-up on my eyes for more than a couple of hours without it becoming smudged and creased. I get panda eyes.
When I wear contact lenses, I have absolutely no idea how to apply make-up, because I have been wearing glasses for longer than I have been wearing make-up, so I don’t know what to do. I no longer have access to the how-to articles in teen magazines, and I draw the line at seeking such advice on the internet.
Once I was given a black eyeliner pencil that was too long to get between my face and the mirror, because I’m so short-sighted. After using it for about 15 years, it is now short enough – but now I have the contact lenses I don’t have to get so close to the mirror anymore.
I have started to notice my skin ageing, but so far I don’t have any wrinkles. I attribute this to Boots Baby Lotion and too low a boredom threshold for sunbathing.

I’ve discovered the origins of Seppy.
Our neighbours-but-one are the legitimate owners of Seppy (who I should now start addressing by her correct name of Levi). They adopted her from a family round the corner, who have a small child and decided that the cat was surplus to requirements, I guess.
So I was right. She IS somebody else’s pussycat. But she still sits on our fence.

So it seems that over in the corner of the car park there is an event occurring. To my unprofessional eye, I’d guess that some sort of water pipe under the expansive flower bed has burst, as a steady trickle is coming over the kerb and forming an immense puddle on the tarmac.
And it also seems that no-one knows quite who this should be reported to, as it’s been there a while now. A green algae is forming on the surface of this puddle, and no-one dares park in that corner anymore.
I’m sure that eventually it will rise up and murder us all.
Meh.