AND so we come to the office Christmas party, which in our case means bowling.
Last year I excelled myself by placing every ball bar one in the gutter.
While everyone else was high-fiving each other as their scores rose steadily, my team mates were looking away in embarrassment when I took hold of the ball.
By a strange fluke, I actually got a strike but when I turned in elation I found everyone had their backs to me, deep in conversation and beer.
No-one had even registered my amazing triumph.
This year it will be like choosing teams in PE at school. I’ll be the last one standing.
And so will my skittles.