There was much rejoicing at chez hamwich on Monday when I returned home from work to see Mr H had actually made it home before me. The poor bugger was on his fifty eleventh day straight at work & I had forgotten what he looked like.
Short lived is the joy however as it is now 7:30 pm and no sign of Mr H.
And they keep piling on the things to do (it's those "it'll only take you a few minutes" jobs that grind you down) at work.
Maybe if I shave my head someone will stir up an intervention and toss me into rehab for a vacation? Too bad the only substance I abuse is chocolate.