It was a late night last night and the bloody boiler has packed up again.
What with the dishwasher, the boiler and my laptop breaking and the kitchen being rebuilt and a bill for far more than I was expecting from the Builder (like nearly 3 times what I was expecting, I am not a happy man today. I do, however, weigh 188.9lbs.=================
I am having a poo
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188.6lbs. Not to bad. I'm off to work.
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It's not half eleven yet, but I feel the need for another visit. I'll go stand on the scales and I'll report back shortly.
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According to the scales (which have magically relocated themselves out of the exec room of late - I am certain that this does not coincide with any maternity that might be going on in there - and are currently residing in Search-PR) I weigh 192.8lbs I set off for the lavatories, arm-in-arm with Rowan, much to the distress of young Thomas, our resident youth.
A short fight over the last free cubicle later:
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I am having a poo
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My toiletries took exactly the same amount of time as it took Rowan to go to the top floor, carry out his own ablutions and return. I find, upon returning to the naveless one's desk, that I weigh in at 190.4lbs.
I seem to have levelled out at about the right place.
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