Yesterday I did something really stupid, even by my own high standards.
I had spent an hour or so on Monday evening writing Christmas cards. I split them into two piles, those with stamps to be posted and those without to be delivered by hand. On the way to work , huddled up inside my coat against the cold and wanting to get inside as quickly as possible, I paused briefly by the post box and slipped a pile of cards into the slot.
Some time later sitting in Cafe Nero’s, my simple enjoyment of my Americano was curtailed when I realised, when opening my brief case that it was still full of Christmas cards with stamps on them, but of the ones to be hand delivered there was no sign.
I can’t think where they have got to?