That was not received well at all. To distract myself from the constant thoughts of misery, I took to cleaning my desk: a fresh start, new beginning, whatever.
It turns out that the entire office uses my desk as a clearing house for problems - I'm finding stuff marked urgent that I've never seen before that isn't even anything to do with me.
It would appear that most things marked urgent can actually be worked around, because it's been buried in the pile and promptly forgotten; but nothing has burned down.
So, when I get to the bottom of the mess infront of me, maybe... just maybe... I'll be able to find some left over coins for the coffee delivery guy and remember what