This is because...

I am really bored. I have given up trying to Word process my lab report because it's taking way too long, and I think that Word was secretly put on earth to torment all the neat freaks out there, what with it's sparodic indentation attacks and text misalignments, so it's back to the old fashioned way with pen, lined paper, and a ruler. Sure I'll probably get a hand cramp from all this, and most likely suffer from carpal-tunnel syndrome later in life, but for the sake of minimal stress, a love affair with tipex, and an attractive lab report (due Friday), it's worth it.

I also just finished eating fresh extra thick double cream with chocolate powder, and while it seemed a good idea in the first place, that's where the good idea part stayed, and the rest was just pure yuck, so it's gone on my 'Not really so good to eat' list along with peas and dog biscuits.

Dinner was good though - left over herbal chicken, and everyone knows how good herbal chicken gets after a couple of days in the fridge...I ate by myself though, because Hanwen's waiting for his better half, and Darren got on the train to Zone 6 to go find his. On the other side of the screen, Weng brought my number of games of minesweeper lost to 200. Bless him.

Okay, I gotta get back to work. Eesh.

For want of a better title: Tewzday

I woke up way too early, couldnt remember if I had even managed to fall asleep in the first place. Talked to one person on MSN this morning, but I don't think it consitutes as talking because I just 'listened' and he did all the talking, mostly about himself. I don't quite know how to carry out conversations like that, like how many 'ok's to type and send to be polite about the whole thing - not enthusiastic, just polite. It's easier to pretend to listen in person.

The last day of november leaves us about two and a half weeks of term. It's passed so quickly, or maybe the deadlines have just accelerated towards us. Largely uneventful day I guess, couldn't believe that we actually managed to finish this week's computing tutorial ahead of time. We're usually the last ones there, missing the lecture after that, and well into lunch or something.

I wonder if there's such a thing as post-menstrual stress as oppose to pre-menstrual stress. Or maybe I just PMS consistently. The last two days have been filled with moodswings. Sometimes (every 28 days to be exact) I hate being a girl.

The horrors of grocery shopping

I hate Mondays because I have to say goodbye to Weng. I hate grocery shopping on Monday mornings because that's when all the mothers bring their screaming kids to the supermarket to shop with them. I don't have a thing against kids, I just don't like them when they're throwing a fit. Other times I hate shopping include weekend mornings when senior citizens cluster around the reduced section like a flock of vultures.

There's also the chance that you won't make it out of there alive when you run the risk of getting run over by shopping trolleys as their owners diligently study their shopping lists. Crashing into baskets at knee height is also really painful, and all you get in reward is an angry stare or a blank 'whadja go en do that for?'.

After braving the melee and finding the aisle you want after walking past it five or six times, they're sold out, and you have to settle for a dodgy looking substitute. Ask any of the staff "Do you have any more..." and it's a sullen shake of the head before they go back to their overly intellectual task of stacking empty boxes.

Then it's off to the checkout, and your line will always always be the slowest despite having half the number of people standing in it with three or four items a piece, but all you can do is stand there hoping to get your groceries through before the dawn of the new millennium.

I also really hate cranky employees, especially when they've been on the shift too long. It's bad enough that you're at their mercy on the checkout line, but when your card gets rejected or when you want to make a five pound payment with the offending card, they've got you praying that they won't make a scene in front of the other fifty equally agitated shoppers and attract a hundred dirty looks your way.

To escape is to breathe a massive sigh of relief.