I just realised something.

9/11 actually took place on 9/12 in this part of the world.

It’s also Spring here.

The world is a weird place.

There’s a desk move going on at work.

I’m going to wind up sitting next to my boss.

Still. That’s infinitely better than the other option, which was to stay right where I am, which it turns out, is going to be right next to where the HR department, the head of the computer systems department, my boss’ boss and my boss’ boss’ boss are moving to.

So, phew.

During one of my morning walks around the company lake last week, I saw eight little fluffy ducklings and went awwwwww.

Today there were only two little fluffy ducklings, meaning the other six have died in less than six days.

If that’s not bad parenting, I don’t know what is.

Speaking of parenting, tonight I taught my eldest daughter the “pull my finger” joke.

I am immensely proud.

Speaking of bad war poetry…