Jingle your bell

I am a cowbag. There is no other word for it. My irritating colleague is eating – again – crisps (again) and I want to scream. My intolerance for irritating assistants knows no bounds and it is all my fault. I am unreasonable and difficult, in short dear readers, I am a cowbag. We have at least tackled the whole ‘eating lunch / dinner / breakfast / elevenses / snacks / high-tea / tiffin / quick my blood sugar level is dropping’ whilst on the phone. Because to be honest, if I phoned up with a query and the person that answered the phone was eating in my ear, I wouldn’t be too happy. But then I draw your attention to my obvious and previously mentioned shortcomings as a human being. If you ask most people about me, they think I’m quite nice. Now, on my blog I reveal a darker side…

This weekend is Christmas weekend! We’re buying our tree from a farm in Kent and writing all the cards to be posted forthwith! Normally the tradition is December 1st, but of course we’ll be in gay Paris and buying a tree there and dragging it back to London will be impractical methinks…

I think we’ll take the dog with us when we get the tree (although he’ll have to stay in the car for fear of him cocking his leg!) but afterwards, we’ll take him to the woods. After which my weekend will consist of packing, laundry, eating some nice food and maybe a bit of gardening. Is it the weekend yet, is it??