Have had my book with me, but didn't feel like writing in it. What's there to write? I work during the day, come home, collapse or vomit, depending on how many new secret ingredients were slipped into my bottle of water at work, and then either wait for Marietta to pop over here or I go to her. It's terribly lonely here. Perhaps I should go home.
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Sorry darling, but you know I only liked quidditch when you were one of the players.
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And it was the first eighteen hours so it wasn't really boring. The audience was fun to watch. Everyone kept thinking yes, the Seeker dove! It's going to end! And it's still going on, which is hilarious in its own right, don't you think?
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Which may be true.
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