So: just what is smart casual?

Smart casual – an oxymoron?

The thing about middle-aged office bods, is they get all excited about smart casual. It's an underpinning principle in the worlds of:

• Gordon Brittas
• Corporate paintball
• Corporate go-karting
• Corporate team-building, generally
• Dress-down Fridays

I was late in being exposed to the dreaded 'smart casual', the dress code for a corporate evening of bowling / afternoon of treasure hunting in the City of London / murder mystery puzzling / table football tournamenting (delete where non-applicable).

I was in an absolute panic.

I had two suits, and everything else was sports kit, or had paint on it. I went emergency shopping, and improvised. I needn't have bothered. There, in rebel corner, were three or four blokes in the same black suits they always wore. Their concession to 'smart casual' had been to remove their ties.

“We've got these suits” they said, “and all our other clothes have paint on.”

Talking of middle-aged...

...with her typical lack of bull:

ME: I'm not middle-aged.

BLISS: Not no more you're not.

She's also recently said the following:

“You've not scoffed all those painkillers already?!?”

“I'll get up in the loft. We haven't got all day. You're too slow and creaky.”

The thing is...

...stuff ceases up, goes wrong, stops repairing itself. Like:

Indoor kickabout with MM's lot back in...well, some time ago...an innocuous bump, and my shoulder's still giving me proper gyp.

Right knee: sudden night-time agony, out of nowhere, no knock or fall or stress, just a joint deciding to give the owner (okay, the demanding owner who has failed to look after it particularly well) some pain and discomfort, right out of the blue.

The eyes. So recently 20/20. Now about one and a half / the square root of bugger all. No glasses at all to a collection of the things. Lost without them now, I have to hide emergency pairs here and there in case I'm caught out without any and unable to read.

The brain. DLL just said: “what was I doing over here?” “Welcome” I thought, “to my everyday habitat.”