Trophy 15 - fruit flies like a banana

It's been two weeks since Elaine signed up for the dole.

I've been intending to keep this diary, as mum suggested, but was too embarrassed to actually write anything. Every time I sat down to do so, all I could think about was Elaine Johnson.

How long will it take her to get a job (meaning: will I see her again)? Did she recognize me? Does she even remember me? What does she think about what happened in primary school? Does she ever speak about it with her mother? Will she let me know if she recognises me? According to the staff handbook, I'm not meant to be looking after people I know personally - does Elaine know this, and would she ask for another customer service advisor if she did? Do I know Elaine Johnson personally?

I don't even know why I care about these things. None of it matters. Not to me. My life is what it is, hers is unrelated. That's why I didn't write, even though I sat down with pen and notebook almost every day. These pages are not meant to be filled with notes about Elaine. They are meant to be about Terry. This is my diary.