2004-03-16..4:48 p.m.

You know those days when you just want to grr and arg at people and staple a very large and weighty sign proclaiming �I CONSTANTLY UTTER AN ENDLESS STREAM OF BULLSHIT AND WANT EVERYONE ELSE TO DO WORK I COULD BE DOING MYSELF BUT WILL NOT BECAUSE I THINK I�M HOTSHIT� to one of your colleague�s forehead and are all frownyfaced and cross and then you see a fridge in the middle of the sidewalk, apropos of nothing, with an empty bottle of milk standing on the wall next to it and start to wonder if maybe this is all just a running dialogue in someone else�s Un Chien Andalou nightmare?

If I were the dramatic type (*scoff splutter* even in her pain, she jokes) I�d be putting my foot firmly through computer screens. I�d be making like they�re bowling pins and like my fist is a 12lb bowling ball. I�d be marching into my managers office and throwing down my gauntlet. I would be challenging them all to a duel at midnight. With pistols. And Zorro masks and capes, only I wouldn�t tell them about it, and they�d turn up and just look stupid.

Whee! Fifteen minutes and I will have successfully survived the day without gaunteting anyone (though, would you really call that �successful�? ponder ponder) I�m gone! I�m done! I�m taking my needle and throwing the haystack! (Apologies for general grump and violent fancy. Will do better next time.) byeeeeee xxmeep