One day to go and the Big Poo still hasn't approved my leave. So this little duck may not be going any where at all. Frowning duck bill.
Come on Big Poo, get on with it. Don't make me chase you up.
I can ever smell the freedom,
I can taste it,
and it tastes mighty fine.
Boris has calmed down, we have sorted everything we needed to sort,
and I am ready to fuck off for 8 weeks.
Come on Big Poo, come to the party.
Don't make me hate you.
Chuckle, I couldn't hate Big Poo, he is a great guy.
But come on, tick the box, mark the form, tell your minions it is okay, instruct the gate keeper, whatever it takes. I don't care what you have to do, just do it.
Hours later, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick… strumming my fingers on the table
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