After the hullaballoo of my weekend away, it was back to reality with a thud.

I arrived late, at about ten-ish after there'd been a bomb scare at La Défense which snarled up the line at my end.

For once i decided not to sneak in like a guilty little schoolboy and went straight upstairs for a coffee - MissusBossWoman was there and asked me about my visit to her homeland ...

Half an hour later i was in my office, plowing through a mini-mountain of a pile of untreated phone messages - am i really that indispensible ? *i don't think so*

BoyIdiot then descended to my hallowed turf, and most unlike a scene from the exorcist, he didn't shrivel up and burst into flames at the sight of my unwanted, and above all, disorganised clutter.

He then asked me the following "What's wrong ? You don't tell me about your weekends ... you don't tell me anything ... have i offended you ?"

I looked at him and weighed up my options :

Either tell him the truth - your persistant little manias, your incessant dumb ass questions and your own detailed answers to simple ass questions have finally gotten to me and i just don't want to waste an hour with you where 2 minutes would do ....

Or ....

Lie to him - it's not you it's me.

Worried about the consequences of a sudden rush of truth to his head, i chose the weako-o second option....

So there you go, if you read between the lines, i've turned into an antipathique bastard.