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Wednesday, 18 March 2015

In which One is v worn out...

And so to bed, Dear Reader, after a long day at work as a wage slave once again.
The stringent regime will play havoc with my social life, but One will be as fit as a flea, since One is perambulating to the office daily.
Tomorrow One shall tweak One's departure time sufficiently to avoid running the gauntlet of beastly, short trousered, bicycle riding school children cluttering up the pavements.
Horror of horrors, One's four day weekends are now a thing of the past and all for the pleasure of being supportive and caring for seven hours a day for less than the Government's decreed living wage.
Ah well at least One has the delicious A of the F on the horizon...

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