Saturday 9 February 2002

in a bridget jones stylee

[as if I'd give my weight], cigarettes since March 31/00 - 0 (v.g.), calories - 600 (but it's only 2.30pm), trips to the gym - 0 since last Tuesday (v. sore from dance class on Wed.), number of Valentine's cards received so far - 1 (from my mother, not. v.g.), alcohol units - 0 (but it's only 2.30pm)

I can walk today - hurrah! My fibres must be mending. I have visions of my muscles being torn apart like when you pull meat off a bone. This is supposed to be good for you? I remain skeptical. I'll be spending the day reading a book on C programming and doing laundry. The book is for a contract job I'm being interviewed for on Tuesday (at 8.00am!! Gah.), and they want me to know C. I took a course in it four years ago, so I'm a bit rusty. Luckily, I kept my textbook. Yay me. I'd be doing the contract outside my regular work hours, and it's supposed to be for 6-8 weeks. Reminder: look up telecoms terms for interview as well. Ack. Must run and start laundry. I'm out of trousers (which doesn't really matter because I'm still in my pyjamas).

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