Friday, September 24, 2004
A boy who is not bad looking asked me for help with Word a second ago. I glanced at him, said I knew nothing, and continued typing. He looked disappointed, scanned the room desperately (there are only two other people in the lab), and got help from someone else. I am sort of glad, because his paper looks complicated, and I have a headache.
But sometimes being severely asexual is a bit trialsome.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 8:36 PM]