Oh dear, it’s true. The phone rang very early this morning and the Sage answered. It was a wrong number, but the caller could hardly be convinced. “What number are you after?” asked the Sage. “Well, this is 2468”. The man had meant to dial 9478 – that is, he’d inverted one number, got another wrong and switched them over. Easily done, if you’re a local, I suppose (I don’t use ‘local’ there in a complimentary manner). I was far too indolent to get up early, lay there until I should and then promptly went back to sleep. I was woken by a knock on the door. I put on a dressing-gown in a modesty-preserving way and opened the window. The postman clutched a parcel which needed to be signed for.
I was impressed. I only ordered the things yesterday and I only paid for normal postage, not first class or recorded, but that’s what I got. Indeed, I’ll give them a mention on the strength of it – Liz Earle.
So, after signing for the parcel, hurrying to get dressed and getting on with things, it was only as I’d put on my face that I realised I forgot to wash my hair. So I’ll spend the rest of the day looking as if I’ve only just got out of bed. Oh dear.