A spot of poetry, before I'm the last left here and have to lock up...

Twas the night before Christmas, I'd just caught the train,
Early... well, 10ish, no need for hard strain.
Pie (steak and kidney) for breakfast sufficed,
(If you don't count the pasty - festively spiced).

Breeze into the office, "Good morning," to all,
All who've bothered - yes, all of him - the rest are "on call".
Go searching for coffee, but noone's yet made it,
No coffee at 11?? That's keen-ness, then, innit?

Slouched into the chair, the web browser working,
An hour of BOFH to get the mind turning,
Then another, or two, one must have one's fix,
And before you'd believe, I'm in 20-oh-six.

The problems of clients, why torque curves don't match,
Meet a mind with the door ready rested on latch.
Building now down to five, all the rest skived of early,
Pub beckons loudly, cider sings to me clearly.

So I'm off for the year, snug fireside to seek out,
Pint ready to hand, "Barman, my shout!"
Will this all end badly? We'll just have to see;
Merry Christmas to all, and the drinks are on me!