Kylie, Mel and Susan still off work today with the man flu, and so was our bookkeeper, Hung.
This afternoon, Liz rang to report that the council had cut down the trees that she’d planted a few years ago on the council land next to her house. Apparently, they had to dig up a pipe or something. Liz was most agitated that they hadn’t consulted her about it, and she’d rung the council to speak her mind to whoever was lucky enough to answer the phone, no doubt using her soft people skills. I asked her if she’d consulted them when she planted the trees on their land, but all I got was an uncomprehending silence, apart for the whooshing sound that was made when my question brushed the top of her head. Liz thinks everyone should consult with her about things that might affect her in any conceivable way but doesn’t see any reason to return the favour. Predictably, her heightened sense of entitlement results in her feeling hard done by all the time, and I fear she’ll go to her grave with that satisfying yet impotent feeling.