All the rubbish I wrote yesterday about having a hectic social life is, of course, not true. I have been off sick with decidedly dodgy tummy and jelly-like legs, and have lain around the house being languid, playing a small selection of CDs repeatedly and desultorily surfing the interwebnet. I may struggle out to Matt and Abby's do tonight. Do All Bar One do water? Are their there toilets on tube trains?
My walkman is locked in my desk at work, so I shall be stuck in a hotel for two nights next week without music. Which is so unfair. Unless I manage to struggle into th'office over the weekend to pick it up. Can I survive sixty hours without hearing the CD I am totally obsessing about?
If you have found have reference to two books due to be published in "2003 (?)" and you have publishers and ISBNs, short of phoning up the publishers, how do you find out if they really are going to be published?
And as I'm feeling entirely devoid of creativity, I shall publish the next installment of my teenage diaries - well, it's the post below this one (look, I'm doing this for me, you're not obliged to read, normal content will return in, well, maybe you don't want normal content. Would it be very derivative to have guest bloggers?)
