English is awful.

Just awful. But I'll get to that in a bit.

I am more or less recovered from my rapid change to healthy things, and I've been feeling great; I have as wet-a-nose as ever and my coat is ever so glossy. I've been makin' plans; big, exciting plans and I am looking forward to this year immensly; gush gush gush.

As for work, I have seven weeks left in the leafy green walkways of Surrey, and I'll be starting in Wiltshire in around thirteen weeks. I am looking upon this with a mixture of horrified facination and horrified expectance; I'll be new again, and I'll get to sit in a big class room and learn about things. I could swagger in there, cock-o-the-walk, swank about and pretend I know everything; after all, I've been in the service for three years now, I must have a pretty good idea about how to do it, right? It's just a switch of location, not job, right?

Wrong. I know nothing about the job I'm in. I'm only there because I can talk utter trash to people and look busy. Every day is a dreadful wait for the firm hand on my shoulder directing me to the cell I will be spending the next twenty years in.

Oh yeah, English.

Like trying to play a double necked guitar with trombones attached to the ends, logic doesn't play any meaningful part in spelling words in English. One note strummed may produce a clear parp of the trombone, but strum the same string in another place and the only note issued is that of terrified screaming.

Words, being English, are spelt in English. I was having a conversation on Facebook with my school-age nephew, who, like every other schoolboy his age has not been taught how to nail down complex spelling and context. Typing to me across the interwaves, each word was spelt how logic would spell it: guess became ges, some became sum and so on. It was all easily understood, but my nephew, using the tools that we had given him, turns out somehow incorrect. It was all very crooked. Crook-edd.

Writing now, which is something I love doing and spending a huge amount of time doing day-to-day, I still get write and right mixed up, hear, here, to, too, two, they're, their, there, Geniuses? Or Genii? No wait, cactuses. No, damn - cacti.

And that's all I have. I've run out of fuel on the motorway, folks, and am going to look at some plants grow in superfast motion and have my mind blown.