It's been an odd week. Too much work. Too many people with teflon-coated shoulders. Yet
another reorganisation at the office, just a few weeks after the last one and about the fifth in the last 2 years. More job losses. Working in an environment where if the morale was any lower, it'd be subterrranean is ... odd at best.
Despite the general gloom and doom, my department had a fun night out last night, which I thoroughly enjoyed. Until I woke up this morning and had it confirmed that the days when I could have a few drinks with impunity are far behind me. My poor aching head!

By mid-afternoon, I'd acquired the demeanour of a rabid scorpion which I still haven't lost. My husband has locked himself in another room. I think he's trying to tell me something
And I haven't kept up with dA this week, so it's look and run from me until my message centre is back to manageable proportions.
Good picks as ever
Yes, he's trying to tell you something. But what?
Sorry you're not the same ol' Gill. It must be oh, so difficult to be you.