What fun & games Jos Biggs is sharing with us today ?? We all consider that we are as near to perfect as it is safe to be. Yes, there may be the odd little tarnish to our glowing halo, but it’s only a small imperfection, all we have to do is turn the halo round a bit so that it doesn’t show. Either that, or spit on our hankie and give it a quick rub. I was smugly confident that in certain respects I was pretty high up the perfection scale. I might be found lacking in certain aspects of perfection, namely physical dexterity - I’m as clumsy as a carthorse in Wellies trying to dance the tango. I don’t excel at joined up thinking, especially where numbers are concerned. However, my mental sheepdog can usually round up my errant thoughts and set them on the straight and narrow. Organisational ability have I not. I’m fine if left to get on with things in my own way, but should I ever tidy up I know for certain that there are things which I had just now, and put somewhere safe and which will now never see the light of day again. Physical perfection? I’m relying on the mantra that Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder. This probably works as long as the beholder is extremely short-sighted and the lighting is less than adequate. But my forte lies strongly with Addiction. I thought I was not addicted to anything apart from breathing. I don’t smoke, don’t drink to excess, and can bypass a meal if I’m not hungry, but I find it necessary to breathe in a regular pattern, even at night. However, my confidence has been severely dented - I have an addiction of which I was completely unaware. This revelation came about when the laptop suddenly decided that I was to be protected from gmail. It decided that gmail was some kind of malevolent force and I should not be exposed to its evil intentions. So I disconnected the laptop from its life support and hastened it to the House of Correction and the ministrations of Steve Hayes. Here it resided for a couple of days of Attitude Adjustment. I shed no tears over the thought that it might be undergoing painful internal surgery, possibly without anesthetic; in fact I even uttered ‘Serve it right’ under my breath. But in its absence I lost count of the number of times I went to its spot in the kitchen to look something up, see what the world is up to, or even to actually do some work. I realised that I am addicted to it. I have Laptop Addiction! I am beginning to vaguely comprehend why it is that the young are constantly gazing deeply into the faces, not of their enamorados, but of their phones!