Monday, March 27, 2006

Monday. Again.

It's Monday. Again.

This morning I was not having a scantily-clad Johnny Depp give me massages or breakfast in bed. And I did not mysteriously jet off to Monte Carlo with a glamorous undercover agent, an emergency book of scandalous anecdotes, and a briefcase of diamonds.


No. I just sort of wanly trickled into work after staring morosely at the enormous piles of oak pollen covering my car.

Usually I have my car washed four times a year whether it needs it or not, because I am a cheap bastard thrifty and prefer to have it done for Free when I have my oil changed.

But every morning there's a bigger layer of pollen, and I think it's beginning to affect my gas mileage. There may even be a small shrubbery developing on the back door.

I suppose I shall have to break down and get it washed five times a year now.



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