'Tis said that we cannot choose what we are. And yet what are we, but the sum of our choices? Shall I awake in thirty years' time in a McJob with fewer career girlfriends than I have limbs, full of tortured inadequacies and missed opportunities, my memory wiped of how I got there? Will I sing on the outside with Edvard Munchs' inspiration on the inside?
Let's find out.
Anyway, lovely sunny day so I had a decent snack before my 3rd Gymnastics lesson of the day. We had double PE in school so going to real Gym seemed unrequired, and indeed it was as Badge Assessment Day was postponed for yet another week.
Here is the first in a short series of "Office Cartoons" drawn by the late Blind Uncle Len. Once he had finished shooting people in the war, he became a senior civil servant and had to run bits of the country, and make sure it didn't run out of money. They were a cynical lot because that's what money does to you, but the suited ones had a lot of jolly japes and high jinks about financial mismanagement in high places. "The Great Shortfall Mystery" appears to have been created either during the final stages of the war or very soon afterwards, as all things military are strung throughout. The Air Ministry, Admiralty and War Office all come in for a slating.
Grandma is not having a good time. As per her request, today we got her some special incense of inestimable quality, little aromatic balls that you could imagine gracing a Nepalese Temple somewhere. Let us hope they make her feel better.
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