- The server room's been bricked up by senior librarians;
- My desk's been replaced by a coffee table and three sofabeds complete with pre-installed hippies with guitars; and
- I can't shout because my throat is filled with my own vomit
means that I'll be taking a few anxiety issues to work with me Monday morning.
8 comments:
Here at the wendy house we'll be chanting and meditating on your behalf with joss sticks and those little symbols on strings that go 'ting' when you knock them together. It's like remote help with anxierty problems
We've gone back to Horlicks. I know the Sunday night dread (dimly remember)
Watch something nice on telly. Hot bath with any pamper stuff you have. A drink of your choice and any naughty little treat you happen to have in the house and with wendy's and my loving thoughts all should be well. Give it a go.
My thoughts are with you to, completely understand. I shall drink a green tea before bed and think peaceful and happy thoughts for you.
Thank you dear ladies.
I reckon it's too much excitement from Saturday night TV. All that Anne Widdecombe dancing is enough for anyone.
I've been scared to watch in case I get a crush on Paul Daniels.
Waking up on SUNDAY with bad dreams is definitely a bad sign.
Sending a big virtual hug, and an extra bourbon for your packed lunch. Biscuits usually help :)
Macy: thank you my dear. They are the currency of the office economy.
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