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Friday, February 27, 2004

On Number 45

So five to go. My eyes are burning, my head is hurting, and my hands are bleeding. To be honest, I can barely remember my name, let alone why it's good for a hospital to have a laminar flow theatre.

This is a thoroughly stupid state to be in while you're trying to work, but getting through a third of these profiles tonight is the only way I can think I am possibly making progress.

I've been outbid again on the LiT shirt. Dammit.


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