18 mars 2005

I am very ill

All right, I'll admit, that title was here only to alarm you and lure you to read on. I'm actually on top form - save for the lack of sleep which is continuing, but now I don't really care; I've reached that point of tiredness where I'm close to full-time hysterical. People at work are having a fab time, I can assure you: extremely grumpy Mondays, then hyper-oxygenated and mad, and on and on it goes.

No, I'm a bit curious actually: I have apparently grown a cyst. In my hand. It's like my little pet, like a little fat blob or something, that I can feel, right at the basis of my left-hand ring finger. So I often stroke it, just to make sure that it's still there and it's happy.
Well, some people adopt a cat, I grow a cyst. Each to their own, I'm not judging you, don't judge me.

Also, I really don't have that much to talk about (so why do I post?? well... fame, money, easy lays, all these answers come to mind).
Spring is here, at long bloody last (I'm still doing the countdown thing for the sake of integrity). I'm going to do some major houseworking this week-end. Especially since I'm going to a paaartay saturday evening, so that means I'll enjoy a clean flat for at least 36 hours straight. Hur-ray.
But I'm not sure you really want to hear about how I'll go about spring-cleaning. Do you? Do you? Naah, I didn't think so.

Anyway, it's 8:00 now, in the words of Zoolander, I really really ridiculously don't want to go to work (a recurring moan, isn't it), and I'm late as it is. But it's Friday. I don't really care.

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