january 8, 2001. To borrow a memorable phrase from Dilbert, I've decided to take an in-cubicle sabbatical - in this case, I'm talking about my living room. Not for me these far-flung vacations to fabulous places! No sir! Why, I've got at least 3 books from Christmas to read, not to mention a subscription to the Globe & Mail that threatens to bury the armchair in accumulated newsprint. I have web page ambitions - that have admittedly sunk to embers lately, but they're still there. The other day I answered all of my mail in one of my four accounts. Now this is living... Oh Christ, I'm bored. If I had one real thing to write about today, I'd let you know. As it stands, please enjoy the tales of a real girl who's having a real life: the wonderful ms. woo... Hmm. I had a sudden memory of stuffing wrapping paper in Q's mouth during Christmas vacation, which makes me very happy. I love rough-housing with good friends. I guess that while I have my memories, I can't be that bored. And I'm not depressed anymore, which is always a plus. Nobody likes to take me as seriously as I like to take me - it's refreshing to get a break from that rigorous schedule of gloom.