Lame

This, I hardly need to tell you intelligent folk, is symbolic of an airport runway, which I will be hurtling down tomorrow on my way to a weekend of blissful relaxation. Obviously, it is actually my ironing board - the first thing I chanced upon at 11.30 and blipless.

There is much to write today about a very long meeting where I had to present some accounts that I didn't write, in a language I don't really speak to a bunch of French folk. With jokes. Which they got. And laughed at. They may have been laughing at rather than with me, but I'll take whatever response I can get. Luckily for you, I am more in need of my bed than I am of unburdening my soul of all that transpired tonight.

Meanwhile, I am ignoring that last year's skiing injury has reared its ugly head in sympathy with a blipper suffering a similar fate. We can compare rubbish knees in the spa. With champagne. <smiley face>