Hey,

I'm sorry, but at least until Friday, all I have to tell you is Things that Happened at Work. This is not exciting, but we'll see what we can do with such limited material.

Today, when hanging up a shirt that comes in a cardboard display box, I dropped the shirt that comes in a cardboard display box and the shirt that comes in a cardboard display box hit me just below my eye. I am not blinded, but I am also not disgustingly rich, so it looks it was pretty much a good news/bad news type event. Later in the day, I picked up a pyjamas set quickly, and as I raised it even more quickly, catching my earlier wound. I am not pleased, but also I am not drowning at sea, in keeping with the trend of the day.

Last night, I had the worst carol singers come and abuse my ears, so I endured two verses of jingle bells, before I sighed and suggested that X-Factor was probably out of the question, and went to fetch a pound coin, because I didn't have the heart to tell the kids to get orf ma land. My parents couldn't beleive it. They are now convinced they will report back to Charity HQ, thus starting a prolonged campaign of regular visits to ask for some money for Africa, kids with diseases, the poor, the homeless, the paranoid, the demented, the sick, the slightly sick, the people with a bit of a sniffle, the people with vitamin deficiencies, the friends of the earth, the foes of the earth, the impartial bystanders of the whole earth survives/earth doesn't survive debate, the victims of war, the victims of persecution, the victims of public transport, the victims of victimisation by other victims of vitamin deficiencies, and the royal society of the prevention of cruelty to otters, beavers and weasels. It is a hypothesis which remain to be proven

I remain not unconcerned, but by no means fossilised in amber.

Speak soon,

Craig