I don’t like Mondays. Oh, who am I kidding, I hate the motherfuckers. I don’t care much for Tuesdays either. But there are a lot of Mondays where I feel I can relate to Brenda Ann Spencer. Not for what she did, but for how she felt. One Monday she just snapped. I know that feeling.
You may have noticed that the headline of this post looks a little unusual. I did not do it that way on purpose. I was looking at the keys as I typed and when I looked up, there it was. It seemed apprpriate for a post about Mondays, so I left it there.
I usually don’t notice spelling, punctuation and grammatical erros on my comments and tweets until just a split nanosecond before my finger hits “Send.” But I n ormally proofread my posts before I publish them. But I usually notice a typo or two later on. Spellcheckers don’t always catch miswsing words which is my favorite type of typo. Believe it or not, I was in my 20’s before I realized that “manic” and “maniac” were two separate words and the first was not a misspelling of the second.
I did not watch GOT last night, so nobody say anything about the ending. I don’t want any spoilers