I'm disturbed by a very odd feeling I've had for the last few weeks. I've felt really good, I've had a sense of completion, a feeling like senoritus. It's as if I had put in my two weeks notice and just didn't care anymore because the end was in sight. But as far as I know nothing is going to be ending soon. I have no plans of quitting my job. I've bought no lotto ticket that will change my life, and I haven't attended any classes in years. The feeling has been really nice but this evening on my ride home I thought, "This day was hell, I wish the work I do was appreciated, at least it will be over soon... wait, what's going to be over soon?" and that's when I started to feel disturbed.

I am a strange person, I do like completion. I love it when things are finished. Whether it's the laundry, a book, or even a TV series about a vampire slayer. I enjoy that I completed it. I saw it all the way through and now it's done. Sadly laundry always comes back, but it feels great at the time. Tom hates it when things end, he is still devastated the Big Brother UK 8 is over, there will be no more psychic twins or discussions as to if "Babe Pig in the City" was actually written by Shakespeare. Tom is also upset that there are no more Harry Potter books to read, but I feel happy that I read or watched it all. I happy when good things come to an end while they are still good instead of jumping the shark.

Here's hoping this feeling isn't some message from my psychic subconscious that I'm about to join Shakespeare and my life has jumped the shark.