16.03.05..3:35 pm

I've been weirdly melancholic today. I'm not sure why, but I don't like it. Actually I think the reason is because there was an upsurge of tension in the office late this morning and I'm very spongy at the moment.

The recycling guys came today. They just barged in without a so much as a hallo and started chucking sack after sack of mixed paper, white paper, paper to be shredded. The whole office has been binging on recycling; keeping the world a friendlier, cleaner place however, is not quite what they have in mind. Mostly it�s directors not being arsed to bother archiving before the Big Move (whence I shall lost me job*) and dump years of unread material in plastic sacks. It�s also mostly directors not being arsed to separate ANYTHING they �claim� to recycle and so plastic folders, binding combs, paperclips, projector slides, all get thrown in and left there for two weeks until the day before our o so friendly recycling dudes come to collect and I have to sort through the lot of them because otherwise they will not be taken. Chumps.** Whatevs, I think the final total was about 20, if not more, and there's still loads more to come.

*At the new offices they have all the office monkeys they require, which is fine because while this place has been inordinately good to me, I very much need a less mindnumbingly mindless job.
** I�m not sure why I just used �Chump� to describe them, but I like it. I think it�s the best word in the world. Ever. I might one day even attempt to use �Chump� in every sentence I speak. I think that would be the accomplishment of. A. Lifetime. Speaking of, last night I inexplicably managed to bring up or use the word �accordion� more times over the course of three hours than I ever have done in my life and I wasn�t even discussing the merits of bellow music, nor Weird Al (being the only accordion player I can think of readily, except perhaps for the triplet who does in Belleville Rendez-vous.)

The archangel Gabriel was summoned by the will of God. Gabriel bowed his head and replied, �How may I serve you, Jimmy? I mean, Lord?� Thus followed the awkwardest silence in the history of heaven. (That�s all I have to say on that except that I was taken to that link care of mimi smartypants.)

I�ve had a strange pain on the underside of my left breast for a couple of weeks now and on Sunday it was hurting more than usual and upon feeling myself up I realised I�ve a small bump just below the surface near where my breast meets my ribcage. I�m sure it�s really nothing, but it�s made me nervous enough to contemplate calling my entirely ineffective doctor�s office.

There's no one here right now so I'm going to try to sneakread American Psycho, which at long fucking last I've been approved to write my postmodern crisi of masculinity essay on.

****meep, shouldn't be so happy she wrote as honestly as possible on the evaulation for Postmodernism, but she is.