And . . . relax

Another Friday comes sailing joyfully in to port, with barrels of rum and some well-earnt shore-leave.

A quiet weekend, with a busy Saturday night at A&E at the annual Strictly Sausage Saturday, which for those who speak Latin is an evening, usually on a Saturday, where sausages are consumed, and Strictly Come Dancing is watched.  Frilly shirts are optional.

I have recently been paying attention to people's sign offs, the stuff they put at the end of their email, of which there are three main considerations:

• if you are clever, or want to be seen to be clever, then you put every professional body and qualification you have gained in the footer - Scobi Wan, BSc Hons, FRICS, Jedi Master
• If you don't want to be contacted, you put nothing
• If you are a funny guy, you put some witty comment.  Illegitimi non carborundum or other such pithy saying.

Now, I need to confess that I did follow the third of these.  It was not meant so much to be witty but profound, and actually was something that, at the time, seemed a good thing to say, and a motto by which I was trying to live my professional life.

Imagine a chaps dismay when the abuse started rolling in, whether by phone, email, text or instant message, plus a couple of other communication channels that have not been invented yet, telling me in no uncertain terms, that my sign off was not perfect in every way.  This is like getting a little biddy fluffy kitten, only to be told by a friend that it is evil.  Now, there are cats that could fit this mould, such as:

but in general, cats are nice, friends are not.  And so, it transpired, are sign-offs.

Anyhow, before I go, I should tell you what the sign off was.  It was:

One thing at a time          Most important first              Start now

Now, honestly, is that so bad?