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The hidden epidemic
Do you lie awake, night after night, staring at the ceiling, even though you can’t see it because (a) it’s dark and (b) it isn’t there anymore because the Court of Chancery has confiscated your house for a reason you don’t understand?
Are you finding it hard to concentrate on your work, thanks to worries about children and tax and long-term health and the eight-foot-tall Viking warrior who’s chopping up your desk with an axe?
Do you feel there’s no way out of your problems, now the money’s run out and everyone hates you and you’re chained in a cage in a derelict slaughterhouse and metamorphosing into a giant turnip?
If so, you may be suffering from STRESS.
Fear not – we have the answer.
Or rather, we did have it a minute ago, it was right here in front of me, look at the state of this desk, I suppose it could be on the floor now, when was the last time anyone cleaned this place up, I counted three dead wallabies this morning, no wonder we can’t find the door, don’t worry I’m sure we can put our hand on this thing I was telling you about just a minute ago, can you just hang on for a minute, it may be in the utility room, don’t go away, talk among yourselves, honestly the rubbish in here, you’ve no idea…
[time passes]
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