When the high point of your day has been the fire drill, surely that must be proof if proof were needed that it's time to get out of there -- and I'll take steps to secure my getaway right after the tour ends. I'm suffering from delayed reaction to the shock of not getting the Secret Service job. I was more or less alright, if slightly incredulous, last week; but this week has just crawled past. I hate having to get up and get on the train again every morning, and now that another season's started, I'm usually halfway to my destination already before sunrise -- I hate having to leave home in what feels like the middle of the night, and it isn't even full-on winter yet!
On second thought...that fire drill might not have been today's best bit, after all...but no! I can't be crushing on my physiotherapist, even if he's attractive, single and a terrible flirt -- can I?
I wonder what's keeping my copy of Back to the Vortex: the Unofficial and Unauthorised Guide to Doctor Who 2005, which I ordered from the Telos website over a week ago. Every day I hurry home in anticipation, and each day I'm disappointed. Oh well. Perhaps it'll be here tomorrow.
Meanwhile, Eric's very quietly released his solo album. I'll very quietly wait until I see him (only two more weeks!) before purchasing it.
apathetic