First Class

First Class tale at the collections office of the Post Office today, as the woman in front of me tried to collect a parcel. She handed over the card, only to be told by the man and woman behind the counter that the parcel had already been delivered. The man went on to tell her that the postman had posted the card, before discovering that she was in the house. He saw her "singing and dancing to the radio". She denied it, and he said "well, we weren't there, but the postman was adamant". She then asked if they were joking. They weren't. They insisted (despite them not having been there) that she was definitely the woman who was singing and dancing along to the radio in the kitchen. The woman argued that she didn't have a radio in the kitchen! I had to leave at that point when my parcel came through.

First Class hot chocolate tonight too, courtesy of Mrs Dagefo. Perfect for a post-party hangover. The hangover didn't come on until early afternoon. The day started brightly, with breakfast at woody's, before helping Amy move stuff from her storage unit, into the house.