She sells sanctuary...

I was very stoic with my emerging, life threatening common cold yesterday, soldiering on like every brave female does with little, if any, complaint.

But let's look at the men folk I work with, shall we....

Master B crawled through the office door yesterday morning looking like he probably wouldn't make the weekend.  He spent the morning sniffing like a frustrated coke addict, and trailing a toilet roll behind him. Master P, the other pre-pubescent child I work with, seemed to have avoided the lurgy, and was his usual giddy self.  He sometimes reminds me of one of those monkey toys which crash cymbals together.  I can safely say this as he doesn't do any of this social media stuff.  I just need to rely on my colleagues to keep him in the dark about this...

As the day went on, the three of us spoke to many customers, and whereas Master P and me were professional with our sales patter, Master B seemed intent on going for the full sympathy sale, talking about his 'sniffle' and first cold of the year.  As he embarked upon this for the umpteenth time yesterday morning, Master P's eyes met mine across my new desk (I haven't told you about my new desk have I?  It's enough to say that it has been life changing, and I can now fit the keyboard on the desk so that it's straight on to me, rather than having to tilt it at an angle to squeeze it between my phone and monitor).

Anyway, I digress.  So Master P and I fell about laughing, as we couldn't believe that Master B was telling everyone about his cold.  Unfortunately, it didn't seem to draw the required sympathy from any of his customers which will teach him to man up a bit.  As I left for home, my pity did get the better of me, and I left him with one of my Lemsips.  These little green sachets are slowly becoming vey coveted throughout Binland, and if I'm not careful, I can see a Black Market springing up, with Lemsips changing hands at ever increasing costs.  I reckon that Master B would have given his lunch for one, if I hadn't been feeling so generous yesterday.

But at least Master B turned up to work.

Mr G, who works in the Transport Office didn't come into work at all.  Now I am not one to point the finger, but as the probable starting point of the Binland Cold, you'd think he'd have the decency to tip up, if only to nod sagely as others listed their complaints, murmuring quietly, 'Yes, I had that.  And that.  Oh, that was the worst'.  But no, he chose to stay at home and have a duvet day. 

Lightweight...

The hacking cough, accompanied by son number two did an Elvis again yesterday, this time taking the train back to his university.  He's left his rather fancy little car here, which I just happen to be insured for.  As he reminded me before he left, 'Remember, you're only on the insurance to bring the price down, not so that you can actually drive it'. 

To be honest, his seat is so low and far back because of his gargantuan height, that I would have two issues if I did decided to take it for a spin.  I can pull the seat forward, which allows me to reach the pedals.  However, doing this means that my visibility is restricted to the gap between the spokes of the steering wheel, the fuel gauge and half of the clock.  Lifting the seat gives much better vision, but my legs dangle into thin air with no chance whatsoever if reaching the clutch.  So it looks like the car will stay put for the time being.

My only problem is that I am going to have to turn the car round so that it faces out (damn you, OCD).  It's all going to be a bit hit and miss as I won't have a clue where I am as I won't be able to see over the steering wheel.

As long as I avoid impaling it on the massacred hedge, I'll be happy....

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