2004-07-29..5:23 p.m.

I only just realised that had I worked tonight I�d have been working with the Boy! I changed my shift to write and he says nothing! The bum! BUM! (BBBBBBUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMM! I want to shout that under my bridge now.) Why is it I find myself obsessing over the most childish of words? 'Boobs' (heehee) 'Groin!' (snicker) 'Snorkle!!' (hahahahaha.. o c'mon, it's funny!) 'BUM!' (o my, the puddle of mirth that is me.) I�ve started craving cornflakes with raisins, and wishing I had one of those long twisty back-flip rollercoaster straws and some chocolate milk, too. Maybe in these times in which I�ve got to be all professional and discerning, the rest of me sinks to the level of a six year old to cope with the stress. Though what this means when I�m all Youngest Editor-in-Chief of the Guardian, I don�t know.

Today I got to play arts and crafts with the envelope cupboard. whee. We were organising boxes of envelopes using the nifty new system called Colour Co-ordination. I don�t know if you�ve heard of it, it�s kind of like Big Fat Waste of My Time. Yeah? You know that one? It was all in aid of Myra being rather scarily pre-men and getting hit by the need for nesting and me not wanting to tell her that if you can read, then you can find the boxes you seek. Because all her Muslim beliefs would have flown straight out the window and I�d have been clobbered unceremoniously by a can of whoop-ass.

****meep