Fish still alive and happy. Friend got an e-mail today from old friend asking 'what sort of person buys aquarium fish?' We agreed was wacky coincidence. What sort of person indeed.

Musing on anger tonight. Had a meeting with a man up the ladder and described myself as 'pretty cross' about a work situation. 'Pretty cross'? Am I my flute fancying year 9 Chemistry teacher here or what? For fuck's sake, I was ropable. I was seething. I was absolutely furious. Curse my stupid conditioning for stealing the thunder and lightening from my mouth and replacing with the shudder of nothing. Treacherous lips blow out conciliatory words that wave white flags and forgive everything, compromise on everything. Note to self - yell and scream more.

On a cheerier note (heaven forbid we dwell on icky old cross feelings campers), housemate and I unpacked bookshelf tonight. Bring out the library-style book-shelf organising fanatic. Oh, that's me. Housemate commented that as I look a bit like a librarian maybe I could be one. I look like a librarian? Does everyone else think that except me? It's meant to be ironic dammit. (Very very ironic).