There are two short words that when put together at the end of a paragraph achieve nothing but make your possible otherwise fine paragraph appear to be written by an angst-ridden 14-year-old, but I'm not going to tell you what they are. So there.

Sitting at work in the Internet Cafe type thing we have here. I have now spent three minutes more here than my 45-minute lunchbreak allows. Several seconds of this were probably used putting in the previous five-or-so unnecessary hyphens. This is not a problem as such, as we operate a kind of flexi-time. It does however help to illustrate the futility of the work I am doing at the moment, and the fact that it is so tedious that I would rather write shit to an almost imaginary audience. I know what the problem with this piece of code is, however I am expected to track it down, and the file it is in contains over twelve thousand lines. And there are another eight files that could be causing the problem. I could tell you even more exciting details, but then I would have to kill you. Or get you to sign the Official Secrets Act. And I'm not standing around for six weeks waiting for that to happen, so I guess you would have to die.

If you happened to want something interesting to read, try floss.blogspot.com. (Tom, you are my only reader, right. Bizarre that I am linking my only reader to something that they told me about). It discussed at some point, at some length, the futility of the whole Blogger ideal, which is what I kind of intended to write an entire blog about. For the lack of anything interesting to discuss. I find it weird that I keep reading this person's writings and probably know more about him than many people he sees every day, and yet he could be a stranger that I have walked past in the street and I would have had no idea.

Two more months of this to go. And a bit. Had no trouble with motivation recently, but at the moment it's all getting nowhere. Gaa-aaaa-aaaaaaah. There will be another installment of hyphens for you soon, I feel.