I think of myself in a mirror, thinking about thinking of me. I laugh at scary reflections, not recognising the things i see. On Mondays, I'm brightly coloured: the week gives me time to fade. By Friday, I'm a dirty gray, and on Saturday, a paler shade. Which leaves a single day to clean a muddied palette left to dry. to prepare for the week ahead, to wonder who I am, and why.Abhijit Menon-Sen <ams@toroid.org>