

“What are you up to tomorrow?” one of my millennial colleagues will invariably ask me in the dying light of a Friday afternoon.
Sometimes I wonder if I should utter the words. They must seem so … so … frightening to a human being who mightn’t even be on their way home from a big night out as I’m backing out the driveway on a Saturday morning.
“Netball. The girls have netball.”
“For how long?”
“There are quite a few games. Most of the day really.”
“Ohh…really … ” The conversation is finished as they don’t know what to say next because they truly feel sorry for me.
