It seems somebody has flicked the summer switch at last. It’s getting hot.
The bonuses are obvious – no more woodstove nonsense, longer days for work achievement and job satisfaction, pleasant evenings al fresco eating fresh, healthy salads and sipping exquisite vinhos. And other good stuff.
However there are some downs. The pheremonal output of the lads at the grindstone seems to be accelerating and although this might tickle Nurse Myra’s fancy (and the thought of her uniform slipping off is indeed very therapeutic) the funk of a sweaty labourer does not move me in mysterious ways.
I may have to reiterate the union rules once more with an amendment re: crack exposure.
As an exposed pair of sweaty red cheeks is now strictly forbidden and a sackable offence.
AD brought chocolate donuts for a mid-morning comestible today – I’m sure you don’t need to know in which direction the banter delved…
I didn’t surf today.