sheldrake

I accidentally opened one of my boss's private letters while doing the post this morning. Well, it didn't have her name on it, and the word 'private' was printed in "point-size = quite small" in the corner of the envelope, behind a small shrubbery. She's not in today, so my execution date has been set for Monday. This will be my last weekend on this Earth-- it's been really lovely knowing you all. If you listen out carefully at about 9.30am GMT on Monday morning, you may be able to hear the explosion from wherever you happen to be at the time.

Apart from this small mishap, though, I'm feeling quite cheerful today. It's hard not to be: it's Friday, the sun is shining, I have the prospect of Grace's eviction from the Big Brother House tonight (Wot? Don't look at me like that) and an a weekend free of obligations stretching ahead of me. And I didn't kick C the Typist in the head and she gave me some fresh coriander from her garden! See how life rewards you for not kicking people in the head?