Diary of a Suburban Squeen

It is my last day here at the Newcomen Centre. I'm v. glad to be leaving, but it's still a bit weird, as I have spent more time here than anywhere except my last school, if that makes sense. Huh. Philip gave me a farewell card yesterday, and I came in today to find an exceptionally fine group of lilies loitering in an ice-cream tub of water, so I am feeling all fuzzy.

And, alas, it seems that I will probably be employed next week after all. Which, obviously, is good from a financial point of view, if not a free time point of view (though Queen Maud's wardrobe collection will still be visited at some stage - oh yes).

See how I live up to my reputation: I have managed to lose my mobile phone some time between speaking to xanantha until just after 11 last night, and getting up (rather late) this morning. Damn and blast it! Normally it would be fine, but I am going home for the weekend, and need to call my mother at the appropriate juncture (or junction, as it happens to be) to let her know that the time has come to venture forth into the night to collect her chick from the newly re-modelled and parking-space-free bus station at Chesterfield.

Have just started passive verbs in my little Latin textbook. It's always so amusing the way that, after four books spent passive-free, suddenly and by an extraordinary coincidence, practically every sentence is expressed with a passive verb. Huh.