No Underwear

You know the day is going to go badly when you wake in a panic at 5am having dreamt that Benny from Boss Cat is burgling the house. Oh, and having to turn back halfway to the motorway when you realise you've neglected to pack any underwear for the week. Doh!

Did I mention cutting my left hand on my PC motherboard? I thought it was an embarrassingly stupid injury until this morning when I spotted a colleague with a large plaster on his forehead, obviously covering a beer wound. He looked for all the world like Arnold Rimmer from Red Dwarf, but sadly even offers of charitable donations could not persuade him to allow us to felt-tip a large H onto the bandage. Shame.

My PC hardware problems solicited a number of useful suggestions from my technologically-minded colleagues, such as buying a Rockwell 56K PCI modem, which apparently generates a virtual COM3 port, so leaving COM1 and COM2 free. A more tempting (and not that much more expensive) option would be to buy a cheap 486 on which to install the Psion. It's a neat idea, but not one I'll be rushing into - my computing budget has taken a battering in recent months, and I think I need to pay a little more attention to more mundane matters, such as clothing...

Another call from Rich arranging more holidays, this time in August/September. As long as I continue to enjoy walking in Scotland, I'm not going to have trouble utilising my annual holiday allowance, it seems. So this evening, bearing in mind my recent New Year resolution of 20 munros in 1999, I'm gonna get out my embarrassingly sparsely-coloured munro map and make some plans.


"I was bored last night, so I decided to take a look at your journal."

Hey, that's OK, Jeshon - some days I'm so bored that I actually write the thing...