Do you realize I’ve been living in Holland for almost ten years?
(With a grin on her face)
Oh? In that case we should start talking Dutch all the time.
(Looking slightly worried)
Err… Let’s not rush into any rash decisions.
Thursday morning at the office started with an email from the HR department:
Subject: Mikka is dead…
His body is in the HR office for anyone who would like to say good bye.
The news that one of my co-workers had died came as a bit of a shock but not as shocking as the fact that the email seemed to be suggesting that his body had been laid out on an office desk for everyone see. Where his grieving parents also going to swing by the office? Were they going to bury him in the back garden?
A short while later another email was sent all:
Subject: RE: Mikka is dead…
Mikka is the office cat, not a human.
Something tells me I was not the only one who got confused.
The following takes place between 10:45 and 10:55 at a party during a discussion about West End stage shows in London between my girlfriend and a friend of ours. The original conversation took part in Dutch but has been translated into English (which is ironic given the opening statement). The names of those involved have been changed to protect the innocent.
The following takes place between the hours of 11pm and 12pm one night of this week while standing in my kitchen after a long day of working late with out a weekend.
(Pausing to check if I really am that dumb)
“But it’s Tuesday.”
(Pausing and trying to act as if I just said nothing)
“Er… working all this overtime is really messing with my sense of what day of the week it is. I keep on forgetting it’s only Tuesday.”