The phone rings a lot in The Fish Tank and I tend to be one of those who answers it most.  My preferred position is phone resting on shoulder, chin supporting it to prevent falling and scribbling notes frantically.  After many years of defying everyone, protesting and chanting “No To The Headset” I have succumbed, I’ve been broken, my neck’s in bits, my physical therapist is rich, but finally I've hung my head and sighed. My spirit is shattered. I’m wearing a telephone headset.

It was a bit of a novelty for the first ten minutes, then I realised that not only do I look like Dolly Parton in 9-5, except without the blonde set , 18 inch waist and pert boobs, but this THING now chains me to the desk. I have become a robotic version of my former self who has to release herself from the technology to have a wee.  “The Fish Tank, Nemo speaking....who's calling? Just a second"..."Hello Nemo speaking, One moment please…” AGH!  On the plus side, according to my wizard physical therapist my neck is longer, so if I gain a few millimetres on my fat neck, I’ll stick with the headset for now.