I’m sorry Mr. Cold, we are not hiring.

This is a short one today on account of fatigue and a cold that is trying to get into the offices and put his feet up on the lunch room table and generally bother everyone trying to get some work done.

Thanks to Z, my loving and ruthless proof reader, past entries are a little cleaner in the grammar department so feel free to revisit entries back into mid-September. Today was eaten up by Oxford ceremonial, some herding of cats (mixed crowd of grads and undergrads for a College photo), a violent stretch of cold rain, and some irritating elitism (and some digs on Facebook for my poor spelling).

I have drunk about two litres of tea and as much in water and milk to fight the unwelcome sponger called the Common Cold and I will have a nice lie-in tomorrow until College brunch where I will stuff my face until it hurts. I am burning through more calories than usual with all the thinking and walking and I’m not getting them back on the current diet. That sort of thing is taken as an invitation for Mr. Cold to make himself comfortable in front of the staff fridge and sneeze on everything.

And really, you need a better typing speed than 30 words per minute to work here and his CV is a mess..

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