A silent word I had with God this morning, as I made my way towards my office:
"Dear God, I know you've got much more pressing matters at hand, like providing for the starving and bringing peace to war-torn nations and ...er .... never mind. But I also know that you allegedly love all your creatures equally. Now, to be fair, this is partly my fault. I have allowed myself to fall victim to the leggings and smock fashion trend currently sported by practically every girl in London. And yes, I knew when I got dressed how windy it was today. But, if you love me, you will let me run the gauntlet through the tribe of about 30 builders that currently reside next to my building, without my smock blowing up and exposing my legging-clad pudding-shaped arse to the entire lot of them."
Did he listen? Don't be so silly - and miss a laugh at my expense, along with about 30 cackling builders?
Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do that I don't fully understand and an entire department to run on my own, despite having been here for a mere five days.
And seeing as I've already managed to make the entire art desk despise in me in one fell swoop, the outlook seems bleeding marvellous.
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