I. Hate. Mondays.

So let me try this post again.

I hate Mondays. Everyone always wants a piece out of you. The phone doesn't stop ringing. You never have enough time to do all the things that you remembered over the weekend that you needed to do. Worst of all: the rest of the week still looms before you.

I mean, last week, I was out of the office the first two days and didn't check email till I got to work on Wednesday, and even with that buildup, it was still better than today's Monday.

On top of the usual Monday hellishness, of course, it turned out later in the afternoon that I'd forgotten to do a Very Small but Very Important Thing since August 1 --- actually, since July 1. It has to do with managing an email list --- something I'd remember I was in charge of if I actually had a note reminding me I was the Administrator à la a Yahoogroup or even those old-fashioned listservs I managed while in college --- but anyway, the point is that I didn't realize I was the adminstrator, and then my boss asked who was supposed to do it, and of course it was me, and then I think he could've been pretty mad, but I couldn't read him at that moment, even after I fixed my mistake, and maybe he realized from my utterly bewildered expression and absolute contrition that I had made an honest mistake ---

So what I was meaning to say is that I screwed up at work and it's going to take me a whole SARS crisis to chalk up enough brownie points to be able to tease my boss again about how much work I do for him.

I have to give a presentation tomorrow, introducing our education system to some foreign visitors. I hate doing it because I speak too fast, then I worry that the visitors won't understand me, and along the way I pretty much get bored out of my skull with actually delivering the presentation --- so all in all, it's not my best show. I was going to brush up on the presentation contents tonight, but I decided procrastination, blogging and Boomtown were more fun instead, so I'll probably steal half an hour out tomorrow morning to swot up.

The best part about growing up in a former British colony and then going to school in the US of A, is that you get the best of both worlds where funky slang is concerned. How often otherwise do you get to say 'swot up', eh? *

* And that's the Canadian coming out.

Currently Reading: Tad Williams, The Dragonbone Chair