Onomatopoeia

T: I hear they put you next to a photocopier.
A: PRINTER. More radiation.
T: Haha
A: viiiiieeeewwww....psheewww...clicklicksheeeew...all day, A LOT of print outs.
T: Lots of people running back and forth?
A: Yea, lots of people running back and forth. Oh wait there it goes again.
T: Haha
A: sorry, it goes eeeeeeeEEEEEE...viewview...psheeeew, clickclick...EEEeeee...*winding down*
T: Good printer noises.
A: I know.

Okay, it's T minus ninety minutes to freedom. I'm spending the afternoon talking to my friend who says his lips feel like Angelina Jolie's (he's just had a tooth pulled out, I bet he's drooling like an idiot, but he won't admit it)...Right tish?

I'm not sad for setting a record number of posts in one afternoon, I'm just bored. You would understand if you spent five weeks breathing recycled air all day. I think it's getting into my system. Tish isn't helping much, the anesthetic has gone to his brain coz we're struggling to think of intelligent things to talk about. He's listening to Hakuna Matata, I'm listening to...The printer. Again. I'm also trying to eat my lukewarm yogurt. I almost forgot a spoon this morning, but luckily I grabbed it last minute, as entertaining as eating yogurt without a spoon can be...I think I blog so much because my sister's incessant chatter at home for the past 16 years has suppressed my own need to communicate. There it goes. That damn printer. Again.