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Monday 9 May 1994

Period. Period. I felt disgusting all day. Wet and weak, awash with emotion. Rising panic in the afternoon and a migraine coming on.

When Susan told the staff meeting about the incident with Milford and Axel last week, Ian Gates made some smart remark, like--Your budding Chaucers and their Canterbury Tales--(all innuendo, puns intended).

I just walked out and drove home not counting the stop lights.

When Stephen rang tonight I hung up on him. It reminded me of Craig Sommers' sitting in the gutter with me outside the Melbourne Town Hall saying--You can go further, Kim, just lean on me.

Puke.

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