I wait for a package containing a machine of torture a revolutionary pilateur. Yesterday a calling card in my post box. joy.

This morning, very perky at the idea of taking my hair away without pain (sisi, it is what is written on the prospectus), I go to post Офис at 10 h 53 (note the hour, it is important). Nobody in the queue. Re- joy. I arrive at the counter, and there the employee of Post Офис (who is kind as a bulldog and very long in relaxation, to stick well on plate) says to me that factor goes past again today, I would have to look the best at my paper: it was a notice of passage , where he had marked there: On Thursday morning, the emperor, his wife and the facteureuh came at home, to deliver you a coliiiiis. As to you props part, factor said since that's how it is we will come back on Friday (in music please).

I come back at home to fourth speed, I arrive at 11 h 10, and there, in the post box a calling card (a truth this time) sits enthroned which dates of 11 h. Mega frustration.

It is not therefore today that I will test the war machine. Having said that, this leaves a day in my hair furthermore to grow

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