The frustration of reaching for a yellow post it with a (long and growing daily) neatly printed (hand-written) list of five letter words, only to find that you have - inadvertently - reached for a yellow post it with a neatly printed (hand-written) shopping list which reads (among other things) "garlic" (yes, six letters, I know, I know), "sushi", "fruit", "onion", "curry", "lemon", and - by the time you had reached "aubergines" and "courgettes" and "tomatoes" and "blood oranges" - which are not the words you seek - hissing (quietly, even though you live, toute seule), "damn" (yes, a four letter word, I know), when you do so.