Categories: uncategorized
Date: 07 October 2004 13:03:48
I can't. In the context of voluntary responsibilities that is, which is probably why I am spending this week learning how to play the songs for sunday's service, doing the newsletter, planning the youth work for sunday morning, and trying to fit in my usual singing lesson, friends, driving lesson and of course my job.
This is probably why I'm ill this morning. Not ill enough to go home and sit around chatting to the cat, of course, just ill enough to sit at my desk and have lots of people ask if I've disinfected any press releases I pass on to them. This is not an easy job to be ill in (what is?), because we are perpetually short-staffed, and there's always something to be done. Last time I was really sick and took the day off the office phoned me sixteen times.
This morning, amusingly, I am doped up to the eyeballs, and writing about the pharmaceutical industry. It's all slightly hallucinatory, and may not end up making any sense to anyone, least of all me. When I see my stuff in print I always wonder whether I actually wrote it, because it sounds like I know what I'm talking about, when I really don't.
Always remember that, when you're reading your newspaper.