Not funny.

1.Blogfolk, don't you find that Christmas is just like PMT? I do.

2. Consider how it builds up, and with it a deep-seated, gut-churning anxiety; you know something is going to happen, you know the date even. You get more anxious, grumpier by the day, yet your forget why the suicidal feelings, the sudden bouts of despair, the snapping at family members and kicking of small pets. And then..

3. ..and then it's over! The tension suddenly eases. Ah, the relief. PMT, Christmas day, same thing. This year, I killed two birds with one stone; I'm exhausted.

*that'll be Pre-menstrual tension. Read your Cosmo already.

1. Blogfolks, do you know what today is? I do. It's coming back to blogging day. I won't lie to you, people of blogland: I wasn't on a total blogging hiatus; it's just that for the past year I've been involved in a specific project, which required a specific blog. Somewhere else.

2. Today, in the horror that is central London on pretty much any day, but especially when school's out, I found a phone; a posh one, with Prada written on it- because I'm not entirely labelwise, or I don't care, I first thought it was 'Pravda', like the Russian newspaper, and thought: how beautiful! a communication tool named after Truth; but no.

3. High on Good Intentions I went through the address book; I would call the owner if a home number was listed, say I'd found their phone and send it to them.

4. No home number; what to do? Ah, call someone else. Who are the friends?

5. The outbox reveals dozens of abusive text messages, complete with insults and bodily threats.

6. I'm taking the phone to Oxfam. What would you do?

Blogfolks!

I might be back, I might not. If nothing new appears within the next two weeks, this blog will be scrapped altogether.