8:46pm: My last place of refuge to moan...
I've moaned everywhere else.
So right now, at 20:47, on Saturday 12 April, in the year of our lord 2008!
Everything sucks.
It's the anniversary of mum's death on Monday; dad is being utterly lugubrious and he's allowed cos the woman he was married to for just under 3 months shy of 50 years died of the big C, but apparently all is not well with Bert the dog and I feel at the end of my tether with nowhere to go. Work is so awful I can't begin to say and I haven't really talked to anyone about it cos frankly who wants to hear about work dramas that belong to other people? And blah.
Blah blah blah...
I feel really sorry for myself.
Oh and to top it all, I picked up a book today, and the author used the word ... purred ie That's a fucker and no mistake Mary Poppins, purred Brian.
For fuck's sake? PURRED! What a fucking ridiculous word to apply when writing about Elizabethan England!
*sighs and returns to bunker*