15.06.05..4:05 pm

On being displaced: Back when I had started here they ended up getting another temp in because the woman who I work with was to be going off to Kenya or something of the kind and so I found myself in the lordly position of Head-Temp. What a barrel of ill-thought, redundant hilarity that was. However I shall soon be facing the backhand of the Temping Gods as I soon will be out of my ear and into another job. Huzzah. I'm thrilled. So NOT ONLY my company not made me permanent (with all the glorious benefits that become a permanent office stooge) but they are also chucking me after NEARLY TWO YEARS of (mostly) loyal service. Of being a lowly temp.

On milk: The jug in the loo is back. There is no proper theory for this, but I do have an idea: Many a time do I find myself on a Saturday morning reaching into the fridge door only to find it empty of udder juice. Often the shock of it all forces me back not quite able to believe it and gasping for air, I grip the counter opposite to steady myself against the glimmer of horror I have unwittingly set upon myself and generally have to wait - frozen, PETRIFIED - until someone comes to rescue me. Perhaps it�s something to do with that.

On what I could have done last night: I could have gone to see Freakshow, a comedy night down at the Betsey. They were doing an Edinburgh pre-show which would have been full of mondo-high spirits and jollity, but instead watched TWO WHOLE HOURS of CSI (America's finest in Forensic Action) which was jolly good fun! As it turns out I needn't have shed a tear for rammed venue and all the chuckles I was missing for, as I soon found out from my dearheart, they ended up cancelling as there wasn't enough crowd to muster an applause, merely a lonely clap. A one-handed clap.

On my mad dreams: Last night I dreamt that my Fat Exflatmate was going on holiday. I'm not sure what prompted it, but I'm sure further exploration into it will prove illuminating. I think it might be partly to do with the fact that I've been thinking lately that I don't spend enough time with my flatmates and how sad it is, which would be in direct contrast to my general feeling of Two Minutes Is Too Long when in the presence of my old flatamtes. Which is why they are 'EX'-flatmates and not current flatmates. Incidently an old friend of mine, upon meeting Fat Emma my Exflatmate, exclaimed in discreet terror (after she'd left our company) "Is she ALWAYS that creepy?" It was a sentiment shared by maybe and the terrible answer could only be held in the affirmative. Regardless Lovely Lula, my lovely flatmate gave me a sketch book last night because she thought it might help me release all the arty madness that�s messing with my head. I love her. (See what a good idea staying at home was?)

On being late: I was today, but no one caught me so I shan't tell. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA (this may well be WHY they're not taking me with them..)

On colour: I like green and purple in contrast, yellow on it's own (even when mustard or smelly diaper hued, but only just. My favourite yellows are the bright bouncing bursts that hit your wall in the wee hours of the morning or the streaks that hit the night sky just before the sun is to set and there was no orange. I like it contrasted with that horizon blue too, that's so blue it's nearly white)

On travel: This summer sees me preparing to go to Switzerland to see a wedding (in Full Technicolour!); Spain to see one of my best friends; Sweden to see my other best friend; and hopefully somewhere where my other best friend and dearheart and I can hang out and make the locals cringe (we tend to attempt to make balloon animals and shriek with delight at bridges)(and shag in semi public places, hehe). This is of course nothing compared to Andrew who�s in India finding his way with God nor Nelle who will be in Korea come September finding her way with hapless teenagers who don�t have any desire to learn English outside of swears and curses so they can sing along to that wretched �rock� �music�. Dratted things.

On Michael Jackson's innocence: I have no idea either way and to be honest I'm not fussed. Essentially if he DID do it, then he ought to be put down (or at least in a very uncomfortable prison, because I don't actually believe in state commissioned murder). And if he didn't do it, then those who pushed the case into the courts ought to be dealt with similarly as it will end up making them heaps of ill-deserved money and fame (though why anyone would seek fame in this vein is beyond me.) (I�m actually only mentioning this because the entire Thriller album has been on rotation non-stop today in my head.)

On the film I saw this weekend: Sin City. FANTASTIC. I recommend it to anyone: the totally cheesy graphic novel dialogue was not altered in the slightest, the phenomenal photography was phenomenal, the hard-boiled film noire (avec en petite peu coleur) (that's supposed to be 'with a little bit of colour,' but my French is as stinky as their cheese)(which I love and thus can poke fun of it's maliferous odours all I please!) I think my favourite line was Clive Owen snatching out of a passionate embrace with Rosario Dawson to snarl, �Get me a hardtop. A good one. With a Really Big Trunk.�

On getting back to work: Meh. It very neearly rained on my LUNCH! Pleased? I should say not, particularly because I came back inside to continue my reading and the woman who I work with suddenly assumed I was BACK from lunch rather than midway through it. Bah! At least I get to leave early.

On bodily damages: I have a bruise on my thigh that is the same shape and colour of a small cucumber about to be pickled.