Monday morning syndrome

I fear it got me.  That dreaded feel of a lurgy that is not quite a bacterial infection waiting to happen nor was it a veisalgia.  I refer to the feeling of this morning using the words of Terry Pratchett:

I was hung under.

The normal cure process begins with a Sausage sandwich, which appeared around midday courtesy the restaurant upstairs – something I needed.  By the way, if you are a vegetarian who works in the same organisation as I do and you like sausages, they have quorn ones upstairs now.  Not sure on prices.

So, sausage sandwich with ketchup and mustard down my throat, I was prepared for this afternoons meeting (which went well).  I enjoyed catching up with friends (which reminds me that I need to invite someone to an event in June on Facebook) and was glad that the building didn’t go up in smoke.  Actually, I think I need to expand on that:

In event of a fire, you should proceed out the door you came in through, turn left and follow my colleague Bruce* out to safety.  Do not under any circumstances follow me, as I go to a refuge area to get rather warm.

Declan* said that it should be minuted that the meeting thanked me for my sterling efforts and it was nice knowing me.

Got home and made a cracking curry with MBW, who is about to go on Nil By Mouth for a minor procedure on Weds.  Poor princess.

I’m now drinking beer so that I can have a veisalgia in the morning… only a slight one, though.

Oh, my day was made when I hear my blog entry on the bus lift was read out at a conference in London.  Woo!

*name policy – click the link above.

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