Spectacular day. Juuuuuuuust spectacular! Marcus pulled me into one of the meeting rooms to tell me that they’re making me redundant! I get 4 weeks notice. So now what? Do I just chuck it all in and head home to the Mother Isle? Jesus, that’s a depressing thought. Taking shifts at DN’s and fending off flirtation from Billy Cochran.
No that’s not happening. Maybe I’ll just hide in Dave’s bed until he comes back from whichever lost native tribe he’s photographing this month.
Maybe he’s changed? Ha! DB.
He’s on my last nerve and it may just pop!
This is about how well my evening went…
Why is thing full of cats? I don’t even like cats!
I’ve been having the same dream for the past few weeks. I don’t even think it’s a dream. I’m pretty sure it’s a memory. I’m really young. Like 4 or 5 years old and I’m being carried.
I think it must be about my dad. It’s a man. It feels like it’s a dad. And there’s this hallway. And he’s carrying me down the long hallway to the far end. We get closer and closer and almost to the end and then I wake up.
According to the bits I’ve picked up from Monica my dad was gone either before I was born, or straight after (the story’s changed a bit over the years) so it can’t be him.
The Timm-inator just dumped another piece of work on me!
It’s due in two days.
He’s had it for three weeks.
It would take a normal person ten days to do it justice.