Scrabble

A very civilised evening indeed, a light supper of cheese with apple slices, and a game of scrabble. I lost, disgracefully, as I have two degrees in English... just drop that in there... so really should have won. But my excuse is that I don't often play, I'm more of a monopoly girl, with ideas of world domination.

I feel better about the work as I've just handed in a piece early, to hopefully make up for being late last week. It was with a slightly smug feeling that I sent it in. If only I can keep this up. Really need to keep up with stuff, it's very easy to fall behind. I need to get my head around the new role I've taken on for University College Falmouth's online magazine, Bloc http://www.bloconline.com/ as long as I know what I'm doing it'll be fine... After a nearly three hour meeting today, I really should.

Slightly disconcerting feeling just then that I've lost some typing, I'm still getting the hang of this laptop, and it has scary tendency to click the mouse pad even when I haven't touched it, could be risky. I'm finding myself a little bit reluctant to completely let go of my pc. It's still sitting next to me on the desk, looking slightly cumbersome now next to a sleek and glossy laptop. But it had become familiar and comfortable. I know all its little foibles and faults, it wasn't cluttered with lots of programmes I didn't use - just office and a photo editing programme - these I don't yet have on the laptop.

Problem with the pc is its size - no flat screen monitor, and it doesn't have a wireless connection. Living in a tiny room, size matters, and for the course, I need the internet to hand. So it may, sadly, find itself in the classified adverts in the next couple of weeks. Please give my pc a home. I never shy away from being shamelessly emotionally manipulative.

Attempted to meet with someone today, so arrived early at our chosen venue, then found myself in a dilemma - do I hang around looking faintly shifty in front of the dining room, or do I brazen it out and go in and sit on my own? I chose to be brazen, unusually, I find it very difficult still even in my late twenties to enter a pub or cafe on my own.

Anyway, I sat and wriggled for a while, debating whether to spend on a cup of tea and packet of custard creams. I resisted. No sign of Christina. I gave up after ten minutes of surreptitiously looking round. Finally, I met her later, for our Bloc meeting, and apparently we had both been in the dining room. But by that point it was too late. An empty packet of custard creams and a polystyrene cup were in front of me. The biscuits always win.