Dear Diary: Spent most of today feeling ill and incapacitated by a hangover as ever.
Jammed a stapler with the wrong size of staple. Removed staple with key pinched from colleague's desk. 1/2 hr. There is nothing that can go wrong in an office that cannot be solved by things you can find in the office, which somehow amounts to a futile and circular argument*.
Went 'home' to the local Weatherspoons for the usual gallon of medicinal Wifebeater.
Went home v. hungry and nothing in the larder but a small pot of honey, which ate.
Tomorrow another day working on my Project, "X---- Primary Care Trust: Mental Health Strategy for 2015".
Well, it is now 0130 and I am not sure I am feeling any better.
* except in the US postal service where a colleague might "go postal" at any moment. But they have cool stuff like guns.