Looking out of the window, it appears that the whole world is still on holiday. My car, and those of my co-workers, are alone in the car park which normally holds vehicles for half a dozen different companies.
Looking into my coffee, little white flecks of ugliness stare back at me, causing me to question exactly how long a life long-life milk is supposed to have. It possesses a slightly peculiar scent, but I try to show it that I am not scared.
A terrifying pile of email has been smote with my mighty delete key. I tidy the christmas detritus from my desk, and crack my metaphorical knuckles, poised to embark upon my tasks, in a very “last three working days of 2005” kind of way, whatever that may mean.
I take another sip of coffee, wince at the spiciness of the milk, and probe my brain to try and reawaken the memory of that exchange on Sunday where Nick and I decided what our New Years Resolutions were going to be. The curtain of beer outfoxes me yet again.
4 replies on “My Mighty Delete Key”
Was your NYR to stop playing Urban Dead? That would be a good one for all of us.
We made resolutions on Sunday? … now you mention it, it does sound familiar. Damned if I remember what they were. As for Urban Dead, I can’t quit until I’ve killed everybody.
I’ve remembered. It was to eat more Chili Con Carne.
Ah, so it was. I knew that it was something important.