Frog's currently bogged down with preparations for the summer holidays including the dreaded Summer Reading Game (the game's a great idea but the administration overhead's always a ball-acher and there's always some issue about the accompanying web site). As a jolly add-on he's also having to prep an event this autumn for promoting one of The Reading Agency's programmes (I've lost track: I don't know if this is Book You, Book Off, Booked Up or Book This For A Game Of Soldiers). Mary, as is her wont, started wittering about this when she was holding court in the staff room.
"I don't know why you're worrying about it Mary," said Noreen. "It's not like you'll be here for it so you can wash your hands of it all."
"What do you mean?" asked Mary.
"Well, you'll have retired by then."
"Who said I'd have retired by then?" yelled Mary indignantly.
"You did. The other week."
"I may stay on until well past Christmas," stated Mary, sailing off in High Dudgeon (sulking for the use of).