I'll be passed out by 2 pm

Ah yes, it is indeed 8.06 am and I am not in bed but actually fully dressed and my face fixed on and for some reason sitting in front of a computer seemingly all the way from 1986 in front of me.
The mouse doesn't even have a scroll button.
I know, hard to grasp.

The reason for this strange and uncharachteristic getting-up-in-the-morning behaviour is that fiance decided to do an adapted sort of "bring your kid to work" thing today. Except, you know, with me instead of a kid.
Turns out though, fiance works with things that are kind of secret and stuff so I'm not actually allowed in the "office" (I don't know if office is really the correct term, but it is some kind of facility residing at the top of a mountain. Yeah...), so what I'm doing is hanging out at the lodge next to it. There is coffee and internet access here, plus a really brilliant view of the mountains so I can't really complain. Except for the fact that on the computers, everything is in French. And I don't know how to change it, cause, uhm, it's in French.
It'd be kind of neat if what I wrote all came out in French as well. I'd seem all sophisticated and shit and I bet even though you might not understand what I was writing you could totally picture me smoking a cigarette in one of those fabulous cigarette holders. I think you might picture me sitting here with like a brunette 20's bob haircut as well. Or maybe that's just me.

Anyway, I've stocked up with plenty of magazines, a book, a deck of cards and plenty of internet credit. Schweet.

Oh, and I have a question: How do you post a link but make the link appear as like a word or a name instead of the actual url?
Yes, I'm sort of slow when it comes to stuff like this. And since I'm gen Y I prefer to have people tell me how to do things rather than you know, actually have a go and try and find out for myself.
Sorry. Blame the parents.

Mmmm, bread...

Today for dinner I am having veggie sausages and half a "rustic baguette". Whatever that means.

My fiancé left two days ago so if I was Freud I would probably say that the fact that I only seem to be eating phallic shaped food means I miss him. Or something to that extent.

I bought the "rustic baguette" at a place called "French fantasies" that surprisingly enough does not specialize in latex style clothing and feather dusters, but pastries and bread.
I didn't ask the French woman behind the counter what exactly made this particular baguette rustic. But I kind of wanted to.

Wikipedia says that "baguette" is french for "small cane".
But if I literally wanted a small cane, would I still ask for a baguette?
I might never know, and before posting this I will probably have forgotten about my desire for this knowledge anyway.
I'm sure it makes for a lot of good pun though.
French high quality pun.

Sounds dirty.

Conundrum

Today is a very chilly, very windy day. I know this because I briefly ventured outside to get half a rock melon and a glossy mag while at the same time forgetting to buy milk for my coffee which is what I originally left the house for. The situation resulting from this temporary loss of memory is one I find myself in all too often and the question I now have to ask myself is this: Do I want milk for my coffee more than I don't want to go outside?

I really want coffee.
I really don't want to go outside.

Ok.
That didn't really solve anything.
I think I have soy milk. Except I don't really like soy milk in my coffee unless it's coffee from a coffee place (which makes me question purpose of the soy milk in my fridge. I can't even remember buying soy milk. Is it like a back-up milk? In case I run out of regular milk? That makes no sense, why wouldn't I just buy another regular one? This is so frustrating).

...

Whatever. I'm just gonna put some kahlua in my coffee and be done with it. Who needs dairy anyway...
I remember one of my younger brothers telling me that Scandinavian people are the only people in the world who's stomachs can properly process dairy.
So you know, take that French people! You might make delicious cheeses, but you've got nothing on me when it comes to digesting them.