I'm supposed to be up at the crack of whatever tomorrow morning and I'm still up. I have a headache and I can't sleep and I'm just waiting until its safe to take more painkillers. Tomorrow will be spent in the company of the paper shuffler and the senior frustrated novelist and the bolshie book worm.
If this sounds like fun it isn't too late to trade places.
And I have told SFN a big fat lie. I haven't the heart to tell her that I need another copy of the 'Annual' appraisal form because I wrote the truth on it and now I don't have the heart to make her cry.
Oh what a tangled we we do weave when first we practice to wrap stupid bosses up in the safety of their own self-deception.
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