Why is my life such a strange and difficult place?

Damn those tea-infusical whatsits with their clampy-shutting properties.
Make tea. Leave infuser on sink. Decide I want more tea. Knock out leaves (still wet, of course) and dip infuser back into brown paper bag of tea (I KNOW, it loses it's flavor uness hermetically sealed in tupperware blessed by the Pope and consumed within five hours of purchase, so shoot me now)... where damp edges of infuser contract sticky tea leaves. Which I fail to notice until I drop the damn thing into a cup pof hot water and it begins to haemorrhage Black Vanilla tea leaves everywhere.

This is why I should only drink mint tea made from mint leaves growing through my front decking. Or, choc-mint tea, as my beloved bro-in-law gifted us with CHOCOLATE mint (oh baby) a few years back and it's run feral with the established mint so I now have some very strange variations on a theme of mint colliding with cocoa running wild under the rosebush.

Ahem. You may have realised that around here silly season really is silly season. It starts with ballet concerts and violin recitals, but then it turns into holidays, and suddenly all my very focused and directed manic energy is turned utterly, rampantly outwards. We've been dancing Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday of the week just gone. Nearly went again tonight, but venue of choice has a puny dance floor and an open mike, meaning that if you CAN dance to the music, you'll probably fall over someone while trying.

Amusingly, on Saturday I was approached by a photographer who offered to do a photo shoot of me to promote.... myself. Uhhuh. Because I spend SO much time promoting myself. Dude, I'm fighting violin students off with a STICK (not a bow. Bows are not weapons, they are part of a delicate instrument and if you don't treat it with respect you'll have to play with an air bow. Ahem.)... yeah. A STICK. And I'm married, so it's not like I need to advertise for a husband. Although that could provide excellent leverage for... most things.

Why else would I want to promote myself?! HEY! LOOK! I can dance (if there's a band, and a guy who can lead, and I don't fall over because the dance floor is so crowded with people holding up their drinks, the bar and each other) sometimes. Wow. That totally deserves some promotion. I feel so lame. (Actually, that's pretty funny. Dancing, and then the lame. Lame like limping. Forget it. No-one's got a vocabulary any more.)

Why should I do a random photo shoot? I mean, really. Would you?