PASSOVER ENDS AT SUNDOWN

...which is a really exciting thing, since I am *dying* for something puffy and full of yeasty goodness. Matthew, who is *not* the lovely human being I have led you all to believe, has been making a big show of eating toast with MARMITE on it, because it's not enough, evidently, to just eat bread containing yeast. One must also spread a yeast product on *top* of the bread for *extra* yeast.

He had better pray that he never develops food allergies or has surgery that affects his diet, at least not while I'm around.

At this point in my oh-so-exciting life, I am treating job hunting as my job. I get up in the morning, get ready, and take the train into the city, where I sit at an Internet cafe and apply for jobs online for several hours a day. The train rides to and from the city are long enough that I get some reading in, which is nice.

The people I've done contract work for are turning into nightmare people, and I'm starting to worry that I might not end up getting paid after all. I'm considering not handing off the files until the invoices are paid, which would be reasonable. They want the website to go up this Saturday, and the original plan was that they were going to pay me on April 1, but that's been delayed until April 15. Riiiight. Now I have to tread the fine line between offending them so much that they make *sure* not to pay me, and being silly and handing off the only leveraging tool I have.

Life is so complicated.

On the bright side, I have actually applied for a webmistress job at a gay porn site. I don't know why this cheers me, but it does.

I've watched Eastenders twice now. I also think I have made the active decision *not* to get into the habit of watching television, so I suppose that's probably it for me.

Anyway, last night there was a cat fight in the neighbor's back yard. I don't think Peter heard it, which is probably just as well. I haven't actually seen any cats in the back yard in some time, so I can't give you an update there, but then I'm never home, so I don't know whether they're there or not. I assume that Peter could probably tell me.

Speaking of whom, Peter has two friends visiting this weekend. They arrived late last night, and I haven't actually seen them yet. I have this bizarre feeling that I'm turning into The Phantom Housemate. I haven't quite figured out what to call myself yet--housemate? Boarder? Renter? I don't know. But whatever it is, I'm a Phantom one. I don't come out of my room until he's gone in the morning, and then I return after he's already in bed, (or, less frequently, am in bed by the time he gets home) so we go days without seeing one another.

Thank goodness we have our magnets, or heaven only knows what we'd do.

One of the more disturbing things in my life at the moment is the fact that I *cannot* seem to quit using "I" incorrectly. I have no problem saying "he and I" or "him and me", but when I use a proper noun, it always comes out as " and I" regardless of whether it's being used as the subject or object of the sentence. This is driving me crazy. I'm a grammar snob, for heaven's sake! Any second now I'm going to have to start spouting off about common usage, and try to convince people that my way is actually equally correct.

All right, maybe not, but it's still bugging me.

They should make some kind of electric collar that gives you a small shock every time you misuse I/me.

I am not obsessive.

There's some kind of funeral procession thing for the Queen Mother on Monday, so I think I'm going to have to watch it. It just seems like something I should do. I'm still getting used to the fact that "Queen" has a completely different meaning over here.

All right, back to job hunting. Please send me loads of cash so I can stop this. Thank you. That is all.