After a chaotic Monday at work, I'm going to bed early tonight so no real blog from me.

Why do people hold on to stuff, then pass it to you at the last minute demanding that you do something about it then and there or the sky will fall in?

And why haven't I got the nerve to tell them to take their policy/brochure/other-bloody-paperwork and make it into a prosthetic colon?

Now I remember why: the mortgage.

Really, I am quite a pleasant person. I'm only given to moments of incandescent rage when faced with the idiocies of the Academy. Ivory towers, my foot.