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Section 1 Entry 0001. Date: 2003 August 25 Monday.
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This morning, as I was walking to work, I saw a man being eaten alive by a giant spider. It was quite interesting, really. He was chased into a corner formed by two bulky concrete buildings. Then the spider tore off one of his legs. He stopped screaming at that stage, I guess because he had gone into shock.

It's this kind of thing which at least partially compensates for not having a decent TV service.

Section 1 Entry 0002. Date: 2003 August 26 Tuesday.
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This morning I was watching that TV show, I forget the name of it, the dumb one with the cannibal mothers eating their babies. Anyway, I was watching TV when the power went out, another of these blackouts. A couple of minutes later the TV came to life again, so I knew the power was back on. But I couldn't see the TV. I was blind.

I experienced this moment of raw terror, and I scrabbled around for the phone, meaning to call work. Only, I couldn't remember the number. And, even if I could, I don't know the layout of the numbers of the keypad.

Well, we all know what happens to people who don't show up at work, so I didn't hesitate. Fortunately, my briefcase was already to hand, so I grabbed it then blundered out of the apartment.

I was going down the stairwell when suddenly this thing slammed me up against the wall and licked me. I screeched, and it jammed its tongue right into my mouth. I bit on the tongue and almost broke my teeth on something metal. I guess this thing, whatever it was, was into body piercing bigtime.

So this thing was clutching me, and it was hurting me. I could feel its bristles jabbing through my clothing, penetrating my skin. It stank of rotten lemons. Then, abruptly, it jammed something into my left ear and let me go. It made a weird slomping noise as it went down the stairs, like something huge and semi-liquid, a bag of something.

Anyway. Two and a half hours later, I finally showed up at work, and that was when my eyesight kicked in again. The Big Boss eyeballed me as I came in through the door, and I saw him geeking me, and I kind of frozen. I expected ... well, you know. But then he grunted and went back to his paperwork, so I went to my cubicle and sat down on my bicycle seat, which felt even more uncomfortable than usual.

Later, in the men's room, I got a look at myself in the mirror. I was a state. The front of my white shirt was spotted with blood all over, as if I'd gone and fallen on a bed of needles, which was what it felt like. And there were dead leaves stuck to the shirt (from where, I have no idea) plus there were toothpicks and stuff in my hair.

Anyway, nobody said anything, and toward the end of the working day, my left ear, which had been really sore ever since the morning's attack, finally started to come right.

Other than that, it's been a pretty quiet day, apart from the vomiting fit which kicked in just after I got home. I spent half an hour vomiting up blood, and, once again, there were those little white spiders mixed in. I can still feel a couple of the critters crawling around somewhere in my nose, too deep to gouge out. It's as annoying as hell, if you'll pardon the expression, and it's driving me crazy.

Except that I won't go crazy. That's one thing that's become plain. Nobody goes crazy. That escape route has been closed. Stone cold sanity. That's what we endure.

Section 1 Entry 0003. Date: 2003 August 27 Wednesday.
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Another lonely evening. Feeling despondent and frustrated. The rules are very clear: you have a choice between celibacy and sex with porcupines. And we all know how rough it can be if you go round breaking the rules.

Personally, I've never thought of porcupines as being very kissable ....

Section 1 Entry 0004. Date: 2003 August 28 Thursday.
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Quiet, boring day spent working. And how we ever worked! The Big Boss declared a Long Day, so lunch was canceled, and then we worked past dinner time. This is almost as bad as working for that startup computer company.

Section 1 Entry 0005. Date: 2003 August 29 Friday.
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Today started out really quietly, and I found myself looking forward to the weekend. The air quality was down, though. Right from early this morning, we've been getting that smoke pollution drifting in from the Old Quarter. Speaking personally, there's something about the smell of burning human hair that just makes me feel sick.

Anyway, everything was okay up until when we got near lunchtime. As a special treat, the Big Boss - who's not a bad guy, all things considered - said we could have meat for a change.

So the cafeteria chef went to the cages and took out a senator, and pretty soon we could hear the victim screaming. That really makes me hungry, that and the meaty thwacking sounds of the cleaver.

And then, a little while after that, this most delicious smell of roasting meat started drifting through the office, and I could feel my gastric juices starting up. I glanced at my watch and it was 11:55, meaning only five minutes until lunch. And, boy, was I ever ready for it!

I get absolutely sick of eating tofu. That's like eating cold vomit, the difference being that if you're sitting staring at a bowl of cold vomit people don't annoy you by telling you to eat up because it's good for you.

So, I was waiting for the twelve noon siren, and while I was waiting my spreadsheet suddenly went and deleted everything, all the stuff I'd sweated over for the last six weeks. I couldn't believe it! I mean, now I'll never meet my deadline. There goes my bonus, and I was really counting on it.

Anyway, I tried to repair the damage - this is a bit like, you know, we're on the Titanic, and it's nine-tenths sunk, and I'm bailing with a teaspoon. But what are the options? I mean, you can't just give up.

So I was working away and working away, and suddenly I realized - hell, I've been working on this for a really long time. When are we going to get that lunch? Or I did I somehow miss it?

Then I had the sick feeling that I'd somehow worked right through the lunchhour and had missed all that glorious meat. But, when I looked at my watch, it was just 11:55.

That was a long time ago ... and now it's still 11:55, and I'm still sitting on my bicycle seat. I've realized I can't hear anything from outside the cubicle. I can't get up off the bicycle seat, either. I seem to be stuck to it, and it's really hurting. My buttocks are a bit bony, and it feels almost as if the bones were rubbing through the skin.

The good thing is that I've still got Internet access so I can update this blog. But, any time I try to do any web surfing, all I get is a blizzard of popup ads, all of them for products somehow related to golf. If there's one sport I've always hated, it's golf.

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