A glass of wine at home does nothing for me. A glass of wine in a restaurant makes me happily mellow. I wonder why that is?
Mellowness helped by my dinner task, which was taking a stack of photographs from work (co-ords have been tidying cupboards) and writing the names of the kids in them on the back. Since the pictures go from 1982 to sometime this year, I'm theoretically the best person for the job. But there are totally unfamiliar faces not merely from the 90s when I was away, but from the recent past. *Who* is that blond toddler leaning over Becca-boo? Come to that, when was Becca a baby? Can't have been way back in '09-- but she left two years ago, yes? when she was five, yes? so... Old age time compression says 'oh, she was here sometime after 2010' and doubtless she was, but she wasn't a baby.