Take it as read

Why do I never learn from my mistakes?
The number of times when I've sent out e-mail shots to LOADS of people, you'd think I'd remember to turn off the "request read receipt" before I click send. What a tit. This was today's response, or some of it. I've no idea how long I'll be getting these things back, but I'm still getting returns from when I e-mailed the entire organisation of 4,000 staff members a couple of years ago.

I love e-mails. They give you the time to get composed, to think what you're trying to convey, to correct mistakes, to get the clear message across to the recipient and your recipient has your message in writing to refer back to should they need to review the information. E-mails are also very convenient: you can send documents and data almost anywhere in the world at any time of day. As a matter of fact, I've just given some advice to a consultant this very second, which is very nice of me considering they earn about four times what I'm on. I'm not bitter though. So there you go, e-mails are brilliant, they give you documentary evidence of the information you provide people and they're convenient and super.

However, with the click of a button, your world could quite easily come to an end. It's very easy to be a bit too honest when you're writing messages to loved ones. The tone of your voice as you write may come over completely differently when read by the recipient. Avoid sending e-mails when upset. Also, one bad habit that I've got is inserting the recipient's name into the"To" field before I've composed the message and added any relevant attachments. Anybody ever noticed how close the "attach" button is to the "send" button in Outlook? Actually, they've been separated in the latest version - 'bout bloody time too.

E-mails = great

Phone calls = trauma

Answerphone messages = absolutely out of the question: "Hello, my name is Tina Indecipherable Surname (that's spelt Aye, Bee, See, Dee...) and I'm calling from such and such a department with a message for somebody I'd much rather e-mail, but they've given me the wrong address. I'd like to speak to them concerning something that's not very interesting, but it pays the bills, so if they could get back to me on extension 1234 or e-mail me - I'm on the global address list. Thanks very much, cheerio, bye-bye."

In fact, I'm tempted to unplug the phone in my office. Every time it rings I growl and snarl "Ahhh, just fuck off!...." - smile - "....Hello, Thingy and Whatsit, Tina speaking!". Frig.


Poo plugs
Something awful happened to me earlier on. Having enjoyed 3 good motions today, I went to the toilet for another evacuation of my bowel. I'd just finished washing my hands, when I experienced desperate colonic urgency and I had to go again - like horribly liquidy. And then again once more. It seems to have settled now.

I have a theory about poo plugs: these are good, satisfying poos, behind which lurk a torrent of brown, pooey liquid just waiting to catch you unawares within minutes of the release of the plug.

Very nasty if you squeeze one out before getting into your car at the beginning of a delay-filled journey.