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I'm so much different than before
2007-05-17 | 7:47 p.m.

Grrr. I've been in such a grouchy mood for the past...forever it seems. I'm sick of the rain and I'm getting sick of my London commute. The other day, for instance, I was trying to get into Holborn tube station when the man walking directly in front of me stopped - for no reason - and as I did my best to swerve past him gracefully he did a great big bellowing cackle into both his mobile phone and my ear simultaneously. I HATE PEOPLE!

Work is also concerning me as I and all but one of my training group have failed the 70 words a minute test FOUR times now. Our tutor is also leaving in a month and we're going to be left alone to huddle together and try to persuade our company's managing director or whoever that we are not going to be ready to work in court by the autumn. Not a chance in hell. Normally stenographers train for two to four years so obviously whoever thought it was even REMOTELY within the realms of possibility that we could do it in six months is a complete and utter jester.

I apologise as that can't have been overly interesting to read.

Onto more interesting avenues - I'm still seeing Damian! A couple of weeks ago I did the whole 'This is too much too soon so BACK OFF!' speech (in nicer wording I believe) and he took it really well and I am much, much happier for it. Last Saturday we went to Blenheim Palace, which is near Oxford, managed to dodge the rain the whole time we were there and I had a most marvellous day, despite being quite terrified of some of the butterflies in the butterfly house and trying to run away from them, making myself look like a prize twit in the process.

One more day until the weekend (Saturday of which involves lunchtime er, lunch and drinking with Tori and Natalie in London). I'm not even in actual work tomorrow as I have to go to court in the Old Bailey and spend the day pressing 'record' and 'stop' on a tape recorder and making notes on what the witnesses say and stuff ('Yes he did drive that screwdriver into my neck, your Honour,'). Sometimes I don't know whether to laugh or cry.



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