Sofa King crap.

Get it? Of course you do...

Last night's par-tay was a little distressing as it just reminded me of how incredibly grumpy and scroogish I get around the Christmas period. (I just love the way my use of the word 'par-tay' gave the whole event a 'hip and happenin' vibe. It ended with some of the boys playing carols on the piano in the 'drawing room' while we all sat around. The only thing that could have made it more wholesome would have been if someone was wearing a full on, rudolph-tastic, christmas tree-button festooned sweater. I saw one of these recently. I'll describe it more next time as it was A HUMDINGER!!!)

I'm getting a sofa delivered this week and am seriously dreading it. I hate the whole aspect of waiting in for deliveries that come somewhere between 5 in the morning and 10 at night. Can't settle down to watch TV. Can't go to the toilet without panicking. (About the delivery men arriving-obviously.)

Sigh. I shall return to my own delivering of a selection of cheap and naff Christmas cards to nearest, dearest... and pupils.

'Tis the season, and all that.

Hm. Perhaps I'll return when I can think of something interesting to say. Oh yes:

- I have somehow ended up with the same internal phone number as the nun. Try and ring me, you get her. Part of me wants to sort this out. A bigger part of me senses comedy brewing....