Dear Diary,
After another wasted daze and nights, meeting Janie's mate, then an exhausting night, I'm just about ready to stroll up the road, and catch the line home, where, this busy-bee must scramble frantically to tidy-up the gaff. Why bother? Because both the loft and windows are being done first thing the morrow. Dash. Rush. Phrenetic madash about shifting the lot, out the top window, into the outside storage space (backyard). I want to sit down, have a cup of tea, and finish working on my assignment, but alas, I can't. Bugger.
I am also having issues logging in to Encyclopedia Brittanica Online, but only because I don't have a 'puter and net connection. I will have to sort that out as soon as possible, level-two looming and all. Netbook contract solution perhaps.
Stay On the Flex Maximus.
