strawberrri.diaryland.com
Things I want to do
2008-05-16 | 9:01 p.m.

I'm sure I once was a human. Sadly all I am now is a living, breathing, transcript-churning-out robot.

"Why? Why was I programmed to feel pain?"

I think this is the closest I have come to losing the plot. I have a deadline on Tuesday for a transcript which can quite accurately be described as 'similar in size to the planet Jupiter (and probably contains just as much hot air).'

What I've managed to produce so far stands at ten times the size of my dissertation. And I still have a way to go. As a consequence I am going into work tomorrow and probably Sunday. I have been working every lunchtime, every evening after court in the office, then coming home and editing on my laptop until I fall into bed exhausted, dreaming dreams of lettery evilness and waking up only to repeat the whole sorry saga again the following day.

More worryingly, the last proper meal I had was last Sunday with my dad. Forget being a robot, with eating habits like this I reckon my body has ideas above its station and is striving to be a wannabe snake. Only, you know, minus the consumption of gazelles and whatnot.

For one thing I don't have a big enough toothpick.



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