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scrit
Gad, I feel all itchy.
I popped downstairs to the coffee bar for my morning latté and bumped into an old colleague who I haven’t spoken to for a few years. He is just getting over a bout of Chicken Pox, courtesy his kids and while he is pretty much over it (and no longer contagious), his baldy pate and face looks as though someone has peppered him with both barrels of buckshot at close range.
I know it’s psychosomatic, but I am still all itchy and I don’t have access to a backscratcher here at work, or better, a tree.
I popped downstairs to the coffee bar for my morning latté and bumped into an old colleague who I haven’t spoken to for a few years. He is just getting over a bout of Chicken Pox, courtesy his kids and while he is pretty much over it (and no longer contagious), his baldy pate and face looks as though someone has peppered him with both barrels of buckshot at close range.
I know it’s psychosomatic, but I am still all itchy and I don’t have access to a backscratcher here at work, or better, a tree.