IMPORTANT: The following journal is intended for the use and viewing of approved persons only and may contain information that is confidential, privileged or unsuitable for overly sensitive persons with low self-esteem, no sense of humour or irrational religious beliefs. Any dissemination, distribution or copying of this work is not authorised (either explicitly or implicitly) and constitutes an irritating social faux pas. Unless the word ‘absquatulation’ has been used in its correct context somewhere other than in this warning, it does not have any legal or grammatical use and may be ignored. No animals were harmed in the creation of this journal and a minimum of Microsoft software was used. Those of you with an overwhelming fear of the unknown will be gratified to learn that there is no hidden message revealed by reading this warning backwards.

Year View| Summary| Highlights| Month View| Thursday 13 January 2005 (Day View)

Sun 9 Jan | Mon 10 Jan | Tue 11 Jan | Wed 12 Jan |   Thu 13 Jan   Fri 14 Jan | Sat 15 Jan | Sun 16 Jan | Mon 17 Jan |

13.01.2005 – Thursday 13 January – The Day before Tomorrow

• I have concluded that I think too much – but thinking that didn’t help me. I’m also going to take Damian’s lead, and refer to it as “a tendency to intellectualise everything”, which makes much more sense than “thinking too much”, and sounds like a better attribute to boast. Besides, the words are longer, and long words make me superior. Back to more immediate matters – not sleeping last night means I’m tired, and tomorrow I lose most of my lower jaw, but looking to the brighter side of life for a moment – Bronwen is the nicest girl I’ve ever met, and for incomprehensible and presumably erroneous reasons, likes me.

Do

• They say there are doers and thinkers, so I thought I’d think about doing – do, does, doest, dost, doth, doeth, did, done, didst, doing, done, didn’t, doesn’t, don’t, dae, dinna, disna... and it was at this point that I stopped thinking, because I’m in denial of any Scottish heritage I may have, without admitting I do.

Comment by Mum – Saturday 29 January 2005, 8:46 PM

  Argh. Cannae resist wroiting somethink, mon. Bronwen, a nice Scottish name, obviously has foine taste. Dunnae wot the gel is gunna dew with your foine self withart yer lower half of lower jaw. Must be love if she is game to take yer foine self on without yer lower jar, mon.