I have a slight feeling of discomfort in my right ear. I've been wiggling it a bit but it's still there - a bit like Charlie Dimmock, never quite in your face but omnipresent.
I've a feeling it's a nest of spiders and when I am eighty it will suddenly burst and a colony of eight legged beasts will fall out onto the floor in Casualty. I dare say I will end up in the Daily Mail (although, in my heart of hearts I do hope by then the evil rag will be long wound up)
I do hope it's not down to the microwave. I have been rather naughty since Wednesday. Lofty has led me down the path of nutritional destruction and has been making bacon butties for me at lunchtime. The bacon is blasted in plastic packets and I have thrown all my principles out of the window (well I would but we work in one of those hermetically sealed offices where fresh air and opening windows are unheard of) and have been scoffing them down without a moments hesitation. Bad, bad Lola.
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