2001-11-26 - 11:29 p.m.

I�m not sure exactly what part of sitting around all day trying to look busy it is that tires me out so much. Maybe it�s the constant holding down of Alt + Tab, ready to flick screens to suitably impressive looking spreadsheets instead of the badly-worded interjections that constitute my daytime e-mail activity. I think it�s also the constant queuing that the working day involves as the strictly regimented workforce are made to engage in the same activities at exactly the same times�ticket machine, tube, sandwich shop, post office, bank, speciality massage parlour�everyone has the same 30 minutes to fit it all in, and the constant tutting and theatrically pointing at your watch really takes it out of you after a while. I realise I�m talking like I�m talking like a dyed-in-the-wool company man, when the sad reality is that I�ve been back at a nine to five job for just six days, but these things get to us lazy types faster.

The roof of my mouth is still very delicate, meaning I have to negotiate food with caution. For lunch, I wisely chose lava-hot carrot soup and a baguette that was crusty in the way that the earth�s outer mantle is crusty. It was like trying to digest an active volcano. In the end, I had to make do with scooping out the filling of the baguette, optimistically called �Chicken Supreme�, though I would be the first to question its supremacy. I left the soup to cool, though it apparently came in a cup that had been developed up by NASA to retain heat in the furthest reaches of space, and I was almost ready to leave by the time the bubbling liquid had reached a temperature not used in nuclear fission. I hope I�m not scarred for life or my diet is going to have to consist of pureed vegetables and ice.

Now I have to sleep. I have to be alert enough for all that queuing tomorrow.