Sometimes I write notes to myself. This is such a note.
Discovering a cheerful ‘help yourself!’ sign in the kitchen at work, & beneath the sign a plate of fruit buns (you know, like hot cross buns, except for the fact it’s not Easter), & hearing myself inadvertently shout, “Ooooh, fruit buns!” before collecting one particularly plump, shiny bun to drop into my mouth, I realised something. I would be really easy to poison. All you’d have to do is put a pastry in front of me & step back