They'll ask me how I am and I'll say "oh, uh, alive" (or something to that extent, a minor variation, we can talk about that later) But Monday? Monday was good. Mondays aren't supposed to be good, either - we've got to get up and function and actually do things and that's much harder than it sounds, but Monday was good. I gave compliments and recieved them in return and a pretty girl smiled at me. I was told that I was loved. For once, I wasn't anxious.