For some reason, I've taken the post-festive period return to work particularly hard this year. My inner woes seemed reflected/compounded in the morning's journey, too: bone-tingling cold (although colder tomorrow, I gather); queues for London Underground ticket machines; being held above ground for what seemed like aaages while "congestion on the platforms" slowly dispersed.
Still, at least I have a job and remain (mostly) above water, financially speaking. Here's a rather doleful clip of The Last Days Of Woolies:
In the depths of my comedown, I'm even prepared to forgive the wild apostrophising of "Pic 'n' Mix".