Post script

Catching up with The Finn the other day (if you can call heavily laden strategic conversation catching up) we talked, amongst other things, about mutual colleagues and friends who were no longer with us.

About the last five months of 2005, which the hacks are calling annus horribilis, he said that it seems that things don't just happen in isolation with me, but everything stacks on top at once, like falling dominos, he gestured.

It reminded me of something I couldn't quite place and then eerily, WaiterRant posts the quote from Hamlet: "When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions."

WaiterRant can be a little theological in philosophy, as he used to be a man of the cloth, but there's no time like death for a bit of religion.

And I have to admit, that every time I begin to cry, my head says "this is nothing compared to what Z or M feel" and I stop and remember something nice about them instead. Though it's starting to get a bit morbid...

There's rosemary, that's for rememberance, pray.

Someone tell me if I start to go mad like Ophelia.

Hey non nonny, nonny, hey nonny.