When the undead dine on the inebriated, and sleep through their alarm.

Warms the cockles of your heart, don't it?

Or because you ignore the evidence it works. As in saves lives. Literally, the purpose of medicine.

Got given someone else's test results yesterday, overnight panic until a grovelling gp called in the morning...

"Tis the season to scurryfunge"

Not to forget... cried 8 times because pneumatic drills, smoke alarms, and the kitchen fitters were too loud.

Major news outlets even managed to report that "enshittification" if now a word - without managing to define it as "what happened to everything when we refused to share our toys and have friends".

Phillip and Pat... no rush, ready whenever you are.