Tuesday January 11th 2011– Tuesday you’re an insult to the week.

I’ve never really got on with Tuesdays. There is something unpleasant and whispery about them.  They are sort of a blot on the week’s good name, a slur on its integrity, an insult.

The thing with insults is that it’s so often not what was said, but how. Whether that is how it was meant or how it’s perceived is not quite clear.

I remember taking particular offense to a reference I’d received from a former employer. It was a standard template set out with questions, such as would you employ Marcella again if the opportunity arose? Kitty Loosley has responded to that with, ’No, but we have a policy not to re-employ anyone.’ Firstly this was an idiotic lie which would be aptly and truthfully replaced with, ‘No, which is pretty harsh as we have a boomerang approach to staff turnover at this asylum.’ Yes, that was a little bit rude, but the big blow was under the ‘additional comments.’ Kitty had written, ‘We would be more than happy to see Marcella again as she is a pleasant and cheerful girl.’ Ouch! I’m not sure I can think of anyone I want to upset enough to describe them as ‘pleasant and cheerful’. I was muttering furiously to myself for weeks after reading that typed slapping. Still, perhaps it’s not a universal slight, as my friend Sonja declared it a ‘glowing reference’. Well, probably just to be rude.

Yet the affronted are often bloody hilarious.

A friend of my Aunt Jemima has a thing for lingerie, but an open hatred of gift vouchers. So, every birthday and Christmas my Aunt Jemima tries to find pretty undergarments that would make an appropriate gift for her old friend. To be honest I think it’s pretty tricky to buy knickers for a chum, but for poor Aunt Jemima the ‘Big’ size issue has always made it decidedly more delicate. Her friend, Lady Carrion, is perhaps a generous size 12, which to all intents and purposes is a normal size 14. However, Lady Carrion will only accept gifts, with a receipt, of size 8 or smaller.

The fact that she will then waste time going to exchange them for a pair that will fit her is ludicrous. Yet the funny part is that she frequently asks Aunt Jemima to accompany her on these ‘exchange trips’.

Honestly! Ever heard of vanity pants? Buy your own knickers, weirdo!

Still, perhaps I’m just as vain for not wanting to be described as ‘pleasant and cheerful’. After all, it offends me so much because it makes me sound round and simple.