Thursday, March 03, 2005

I'm Growing Older, I'm Bored. I Remember When Misery Thrilled Me Much More 

“She doesn’t dust. She only half dusts.”

That’s Thora Hird, in one those Alan Bennett Talking Head monologues. It might as well have been Zippee, who fetches out his own cloth and can of Mr. Muscle after the grumpy cleaner has been round, and does the job properly himself. No soapy residue when he’s finished, and he doesn’t mind who knows it.

I’ve been a bit grumpy myself. The project’s not going to be finished by the end of the week like I‘d hoped, and I do and don’t care.
Modom will be back on Monday. I’ll get the cakes in tomorrow for my team, thank them for their efforts, sign off on a good note. They’ve been really good actually, even Mike and Terry who could have been uppity and awkward but weren’t, which I appreciate.

Maybe it’s a different Tim.

“Different Tim? Drink problem???”

Or perhaps it says Tina. Stella’s a girl - she’s bound to know a Tina with a drink problem.

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