I’ve caught a cold. It’s not a big deal. I’m not dying; I haven’t gone blind; I’ve still got all four limbs… But, my throat feels as if I’ve swallowed a packet of razor blades, my chest is sore, the gunk machine in my sinuses is on overload, my head’s thumping and every time I sneeze I…no, that’s too much information. I feel lousy.

When I feel lousy, I feel just a tad crabby. So, here’s my whinge for the week: Why do manufacturers always assume we, the general public, are stupid? There’s a particular example that always gets my knickers in a knot. Egg companies. When I see the same mob’s brand on both cage eggs and free-range eggs, I think, “Ooh, I bet the lucky chooks that get chosen for free-range, stand with beaks poking through the wire fence, and sing nah-nah-sucked-in to all their caged comrades.”

Is it decided by lottery? Do you toss a coin? Is there racism in the chook world? All white chooks to the free range barn and all brown chooks to the cages, or vice versa? Or could it be (call me crazy) that the only difference is the wording on the egg carton and they’re all cage eggs? Well your sly marketting ways don’t fool this little black duck. I buy my eggs from the mob who only sells free range eggs, and I hope and pray they’re not lying to me. (Yes, we could have our own chooks, but you’ll have to take that up with the Old Boy.)

On a happier note, this week I ‘solved the secret of Shanghai and have joined the guild of gamesmasters’. I’d like to thank my parents without whom I wouldn’t be here today. I’d like to thank my husband who taught me how to use a computer. I’d like to thank my agent but I don’t have one. What does it mean? I’ve passed level one in Shanghai Mahjong. Now try not to be jealous, it’s such a destructive emotion.

I’m going to take some panadol, suck on a throat lozenge and have a little nap. Have a good week, and watch out for those crafty marketting people. Show them you’re not as stupid as they think you are.