It is not quite proper, and certainly unfair to one's typist's employer, when one's thoughts drift toward Caledon while said typist is still on the clock (so to speak). Perhaps such meandering thoughts are inevitable when one is not fully engaged in the task at hand, or when one realizes that the average level of discourse, in both intellectual rigour and politeness, is higher in Caledon. Neverthless, one does feel a teensy bit guilty about the whole thing.
Not that I let it ruin my day.
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