I wish I could turn back time and find that the dog hasn't eaten my bra
2002-06-17 || 5:45 p.m.

I'm so gutted and so upset about something so stupid. I can't even begin to put this into words and if I do, it will just sound stupid, pathetic and slightly moronic.

I've come home from work tonight to find that the dog has eaten my favourite black bra. Oh, big deal I hear you think. Well, yes, it is a big deal actually. I have the misfortune to be very slim. A very small frame. However, unluckily for me I have a large chest. Now we are not talking freakishly out of proportion here, just slightly bigger than I would like and about fantasy size for most guys. Unless of course you're into being smothered by them, in which case even I would be too small for you.

I can't just drop by Primark and pay �7 for a new one. Oh no, mine cost about �25 and it's hit and miss whether the same size will fit me in different bras. Well unless you have a bit of a tit fetish this is probably getting boring.

I am actually gutted. It has actually made me cry. But of course I'm not crying for that alone. I'm crying because I have to get up early in the morning and I hate that and will NEVER get used to it, lazy slut that I am. I'm crying because I just want someone to be there for me, to notice I left my bra in the bathroom and pick it up for me. To make dinner for me when I'm tired. To run me a bath etc etc etbloodycetera. I'm crying because I have no social life anymore. The meagre one I did have has disappeared since I started teaching in September. Tuesday used to be my night out with my best friend. I haven't been out with her for at least five weeks. I can't go tomorrow either - I have to get up even earlier the next three mornings to get to a maths course in Canterbury. An hour and a half train journey and then a bus ride.

Oh what fun.

If I don't write all this down then I seriously, SERIOUSLY think I might do myself some harm.

I am not joking.