Whinge, moan, Who

It's Sunday afternoon, I have a cold and was in bed last night for twelve hours – unheard of for me – and I am now in the office trying to get some stuff done in order to make the next two days at work more bearable. I ought not to need to do this, because I ought to be able to be off sick, but that's not going to happen. Fortunately, I don’t even have the energy to be annoyed; I'm just going to come in tomorrow, hand the shredding to the new temp, and apply some careful make-up to make sure my death warmed up status is clear to my boss when I meet her later in the morning. If I've got bags under my eyes, I might as well use them. Oh yes, and I'm having problems with my telephone and I'm fed up of the horrid weather.

( Behind the Sofa )