Petulant Dolly


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On the up: blah blah blah
On the down: blah blah blah

I am SO not in the mood to talk to anyone. Typing is about the extent of my communication at the moment. I just can't be arsed to open my mouth. Can you believe that?! Me, not wanting to talk? I amaze myself.

I even thought it might be easier to send about 12 continuous SMSes to Shantini just now instead of just talking to her.

Of course, just when I'm in a shitty mood, I discover that a whole bunch of 17-year-olds are reading my column (yuck), some of my not-very-favourite people are reading this blog (yuck yuck) and I am getting emails from people pouring out their relationship problems and suicidal tendencies to me.

A big part of me wants to write back "DO I LOOK LIKE I RUN THE SELF-HELP SECTION IN MPH?" but I don't really fancy the bad karma that comes with that, in case the crazy really does do off with herself with a gas pipe.

GAH all I want to do is sit in a corner, edit books, drink water and have everyone leave me alone.

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