I wash my hands of this weirdness

Post-posting, yesterday continued to be strange. I was doing Pilates at the gym with my iPod on, possibly not a brilliant idea. I was doing jack-knifes, my favourite Pilation, wherein one lies flat on her back, then kicks legs into the air and pulls off the floor into a shoulder stand, then *jack-knifes* the body to put the feet behind the head. In that last step, I accidentally kicked an elderly gentleman with both feet, because I hadn't heard him step onto the mat behind my head. He hadn't seen what I was doing because he was bending over away from me, thus I kicked him in the, um, posterior. Needless to say, I tried to apologize and, also needless to say, he wanted only to get as far away from me as possible.

Following that I bought a Greek salad for lunch, only to find that the chunks of red juicy-looking tomato were, for some reason, watermelon. Then I went off to teach and it was the last day of school and the kids were *haywire.* One of my favourite students (I have many favourite students--is that bad?) gave me an end-of-term gift of candies. I was pleased, but when I read the card listing the things she liked about me, one was that I always let her go to the bathroom when she asked! Kinda scraping the bottom of the barrel for compliments there, aren't we? At this point I went home to lick my wounds.

Today promises to be a better day, despite the fact that I am eating distinctly sketchy tinned tuna salad (it was on sale!) The evening promises Indian food and hilarity, and I only have a half hour more of work left. Huzzah.

Oh, I did hear a rumour that Rose-coloured comments weren't working, but when I tested them they seemed to. You can always email me at RebeccaBooks@excite.com should you need to comment but be unable.

Floodwater pours from the mouth
RR