Something about anticipating what a horrible day this was going to be must have helped counteract the premonition, because it turned out to be a fairly mellow one. Maybe I should write every Sunday night about how much I dread the coming of Monday morning. It seems to act as an antidote, or maybe as a vaccine. A spoonful of fear makes the terror disappear.

Come to think of it, I pretty much do write every Sunday about my dread of Mondays. So that theory's out the window.

Next comes Tuesday. Ooohhh, I'm so scared.

On the other hand, it's only Monday and I'm already two days behind for the week. How could that be? Is it possible I took things a little too serenely today? I thought I was working pretty steadily and getting things done, but I finished the day with more left to do than I started. That's a sign of either excellent job security or total incompetence.

I can report that the only birds that don't totally ignore my new bird call are the bushtits. It drives them nutty, and since they start out a little nutty, it's comical to watch. They run in packs, and they chatter at each other constantly, so they must have thought I was one of them. After they listened for a few minutes and looked around quizzically, one tiny bushtit flew out of the tree and directly at the screen door I was standing behind. It swerved off at the last second, but as often as I've watched these funny little birds, I've never had one get that close to me before.

I don't think you can call bushtits, because they seem to do pretty much whatever they want. But when they're around you can mess with them.