"Why Does the Universe Hate Me?"

Oh good. Just what I needed.

Rincewind seems to have a virus, Nobby needs drivers reinstalling again, and I can't find the right discs. CW's modem is buggered, H is still silent and Mother says I'm still putting on weight. My camera is rubbish, the database of thousands of TV recordings has vanished and I've just stepped in a puddle of dog urine.

And there was a small bombshell dropped at tonight's organisational meeting.

Gareth E, co-ordinator for Portsmouth Student Respect, cosignatory of the Respect candidate in upcoming local elections and full time regional organiser for south east SWP, has resigned suddenly and without explanation from all his roles. Which leaves the rest of us lefties overstretched and in the lurch in those three areas.

I got thoroughly drunk with him at Paddy's 24th birthday bash two days ago, and he seemed fine then. But I know what's happened because it's happened before. He's one of those people who piles on the responsibility, coping magnificently until he suddenly can't cope at all, and collapses.

My own strain reaction is to find endless displacement activity - his is to jump into a deep dark hole and blot out the outside world. He knows I'm there for him when he's ready to talk, just like he's been there for me in my times of crisis.

In the meantime, I'm taking on a some of his responsibility for the electoral campaign. Right after I fix everyone's computers, again.