A good friend has become increasingly morbid of late. Faced with the realisation of her inevitable demise she seeks reassurance from those around her; unfortunately, as we work together, that often includes me.
"You know we're all going to die, right?" It's an odd way to start a conversation but at least it's honest.
"Yes." I reply, looking up from a particularly dull Excel spreadsheet. "I tend not too think about it too much."
"How? How can you just ignore it?" There's a look in her eyes - an interesting mixture - equal parts mania and melancholy. I sigh heavily.
"In much the same way that I'm now going to ignore you." I reply, returning to little slice of hell on Earth Bill Gates has so lovingly crafted for me.
