I make another cup of coffee, sit down again and this time sort my email alphabetically.

It’s the same electronic pile of things needing consideration or reply or both but this time different things surface from the depths for attention.

I’m not doing too badly. The count on my inbox has gone down from 250 to 100 odd. I pick off a few of the newer mails that came in when I was making my drink before I set about one of the more dusty relics from my pile of things to sort.

At times it feels rather like Wimbledon. You fire off a reply only to see it arrive back, updated, a moment later. Where ever possible I pick up the phone and make a phone call but at the moment I’m on a conference call so all I can do is return it like a cross court lob from whence it came.

This time I’m determined to walk away having done all I can at work. This project seems to have drained us all and I think we all need time off to gather our strengths and finish this off in the New Year.

Somewhere at the back of the room in the gloom is Christmas calling …

“I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,” said the Spirit. “Look upon me!

Charles Dickens A Christmas Carol