I am feeling a bit better today, but not before finding myself dissolving into a wobbly, teary, snotty mess at bedtime last night and when I was trying to pack my bag this morning. More pain: pinching in my left side (just below and to the right of where my hipbone would be if one could see it) and a feeling like my bladder is being crushed in someone's fist. I am now a person who doesn't go anywhere without a bottle of 100 ibuprofen in her bag; I have stopped reading Houellebecq in case I'm tempted to take them all at once.

C is being great. I keep telling him how sorry I am that this is happening, and he keeps telling me to stop apologising. I'm apologising for not being the girlfriend I want to be - the happy, healthy, fit, sexually adventurous girlfriend. Instead he's lumbered with a quivering-lipped ill person. It must be galling to move 400 miles to be with a "great" person, only to have her fall over 6 months after arriving.

Tonight I'm not going home - I'm going to stay the night with KT over in Stratford (east London, not any other town of the same name). I feel a bit bad about leaving C on his own after last night's debacle, but I need to see KT because I've been letting my friendships stagnate. Plus I can whine at her about my problems, and she can whine to me about hers (she has PCOS). I just hope I feel OK tonight, because I don't want to make another person run around fetching hot water bottles and painkillers.

Anyway. I am going to regale you with amusing tales from the porn industry, whoch is what you come here to read about, I bet.

A couple of weeks ago the company I work for sent out a mailshot to all the people who have bought films from us in the past (about 12000 people). The mailshot was of our new catalogue. It resulted in a flood of new orders, but also a few complaints and amusing scenarios.

One man emailed us URGENT-ly, demanding to be removed from our mailing list IMMEDIATELY because his son had "almost opened" the letter containing the catalogue. Presumably this would have been harmful to the little munchkin. We were tempted to write back and ask the customer: just what in hell is your (presumably) young son doing opening your mail anyway??? We're on our way over to give him a slap ourselves!

Another irate father rang us because his 16 year old daughter had opened the catalogue and it had "upset" her. It turned out that the 16 year old daughter was working as a receptionist, and the catalogue had been sent to her boss. Upon opening it, she'd burst into tears and phoned her father, and he had had to come and collect her from work. We have no idea if she's still working for that particular porno-purchasing boss.

We've had quite a few customers phone, apparently wanting to make orders, but in reality just wanting to get off. One guy got the office manager on the phone, saying he wanted to make an order and could she list the titles? She said that she could send him a catalogue, but no - he's already got one. He just wants to hear her read out the names of the films (things like Busty Fuck3rs and An@l Porn Party). Ick!

A few weeks ago I picked up a call from a guy who was obviously trying not to be heard (maybe he was at home, or his wife was within earshot). He was asking (whispering to) me which films contained which acts (girl/girl, anal, leg sex, etc), and I kept on telling him that I could send him a catalogue if he wanted. No no no, no catalogues! Eventually, after mentioning a couple of titles, he told me he had to go and promptly rang off. Presumably he'd either just nutted, or his boss was coming round the corner. Or both.

It's non-stop glamour working here, I tell you!