Too close?

At times of stress I’m prone to topical nightmares, but they are usually fairly mundane – last night, for example, I dreamed that I’d mixed up bullseye and bookworm in one of the announcements of future code names.

But Saturday night was a whole different game. Imagine taking a rucksack out of the cupboard under the stairs, and thinking it a bit too heavy for an empty bag. You open the top and it’s full of small packages tied up with brown paper and string. As you take each one out and set it aside you realise, with mounting horror, that these are all packages missing from buster and which should have been in the release. But it’s too late to do anything about that now; you know the press release went out already because you signed it off yourself, so you can’t do anything else but get all the packages out of the bag and see how many were forgotten. And you dig, and count, and dig, and it’s like Mary Poppins’ carpet bag, and still they keep on coming…

Sometimes I wonder if I get too close to stuff!

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