Tell me why I don't like Mondays.

That's subjective. I don't like Tuesdays, Wednesdays, or Thursdays either.

Anyway.

Yesterday I had a great dream. In it, my Dad came to me and told me to pack up, he was taking me to London for 5 days.

Which is kind of weird, because my Dad never took me anywhere by himself, and even if he had, now he can't travel.

Do fathers normally take their daughters on vacation? I'm just thinking about that now. It seems to me they should, but.... do they?

It seems to me I'm only realizing now how truly weird my family is. How atypical. Not that it bothers me much; it's all water under the bridge by now. If I'm screwed, then I am, and if I'm not, well that's just great.

It drives Bel crazy, though. 'Why don't you just ask them?' And I cower in fetal position, cover my ears with my hands and say, 'No, mustn't ask, mustn't ask, good girls don't ASK'.

Although I still wonder if I'll know the story one day.

Anyway.

I've been re-reading my blog. It's messy, it's unfocused, it's egotistical, and it's generally disorganized...... but my English is not that bad. In MHO.

I keep thinking, then, I should have given those bastards who wouldn't hire me the URL of this page.

And then I think that, should they have read this blog, they wouldn't have hired me either way, because they'd have realized I'm nuts.

Hm. My boss just stepped into the room. I'll be back later....