Doomsday has come and gone, and this column is still here, so I would imagine the shy planet Nibiru missed Earth by a few hundred light years.
And anyway, the Mayans insisted they never said anything about the end of the world, only the end of the traditional Mayan calendar. It was probably Mr Nostradamus who blew everything out of proportion, but then he's not around to defend his predictions, or our interpretations of them anyway.
So let's move on to the next catastrophe, which, in my case, happens to be new developments with my former housekeeper. If you remember, she chose retirement over therapy for her alcohol dependency, insisting that she didn't drink. This was despite doctors' warnings regarding her health, despite neighbours seeing her sneaking beer bottles back home in paper bags, despite deeply flushed skin, glazy eyes and breathalyser-top-score breath by early afternoon. Plus she wasn't getting very much work done, since she had no idea where she left the feather duster.
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