...starting rotations...

i) It happens every year, and is even understandable (not excusable, but understandable) - you get dozens of new bodies in a place and probably one of them is going to have sticky fingers. I never bitched about it before because I have never had any of my things walking away with those sticky fingers. But now I'm missing my cell phone (and before you say "retrace your steps", here are your steps - I had it at work, on my break, then at the end of my shift, no longer) and I feel like I've lost an appendage or something. I never realised how often I use my phone, and in how many capacities. Between work and the Globalist and school and friends and cabs and and and... and now I'm having none of that, but still hearing phantom ring tones, hip vibrations.

So to whichever of the new people whose name I'm not bothering to learn until January (if they even make it that long) who has my grubby Nokia, f*** you.

And if someone finds it in the back somewhere and it wasn't taken after all but only left behind in my ditzy haze, then I'll stop growling at work and maybe talk to some of the new people, and maybe even learn their names.

ii) It might be the middle of November before I find the time to write anything here again, I have so much going on right now - anyways I think at this point it's just habit, it's not like I'm saying anything particularly creative. But I thought I'd explain myself just in case the Brits start commenting about my week-long absences again.

iii) I think I've stressed and coffeed myself right into an ulcer. I can't be sure, but the big burning and nausea is maybe a hint.