Half a Pint #

19 November 1998

This morning a colleague asked me what I intended to write about in my journal, as the week had been quite uneventful thus far. It was an interesting poser, but didn’t really address the real problem, which is how to remember the week’s events by the time I get back to a PC. It seems I’m not the only person who finds this annoying, judging by Jen’s journal.

The obvious answer is to scrawl thoughts down during the week, but herein lies another problem - I seem to be out of practice at using a pen. The only thing I have cause to write is my name, on little VISA slips (and given the quality of some of those signatures, I’m amazed they let me take my groceries home). I’m reluctant to answer other people’s phone calls at work, ‘cos I can’t be bothered with the hassle of writing a post-it note. Is that awful? I’d much rather send them an email letting them know about the call, but people find this behaviour strange. I’m in good company, though - Her Majesty recently told a foreign dignatory that she “uses a computer for all her writing now - you can cut and paste!”.

Thursday evening was annoying - this dumb stomach-ache or whatever it is (no, I still haven’t been to see a doctor) totally ruined what looked like being a decent night out. I managed half a pint of Guinness in the first pub before taking a taxi (which skanked me for £6) back to the house to be ill. Not fun, and not good for my street cred, either…