Ok, maybe I’m a little upset because it’s Monday. But at least 85% of the upset is because I had to get up and make myself presentable to the world on a day when I just wanted to stay in bed. I am one person that loves to cut around in next to nothing (not at the moment though because it’s winter). So aside from the indignity that is going back to work, having to relinquish my comfy peejays is damn near devastating.
As for the reason behind today’s glumness, I wasn’t out that late and I didn’t drink that much (lots of thats in there, I know) but I still felt the strain having to be productive and pleasant at work. And then to have to come home and sit at the computer some more to try and madly get as much done as possible before we go to Splendour on Thursday. Well, it’s a crying shame some days, I tell you.
Ah Mondays, are they EVER any good? I honestly can’t remember the last decent one. They’re always filled with mourning for the passing of the weekend. Even the best, most civilised yet action packed weekend still comes to an end with arrival of Monday. It’s just a cursed beast. Never welcomed, always feared and hated.
Even if you worked part-time and gave the official Monday the flick, it would take possession of another weekday. There’s just no stopping it. Monday-itis doesn’t even need a Monday. Any old day after an extended work-free period will do. It’s a force of nature, really. Like dawn or sunset or the winter solstice, it comes around eventually and we just have to roll with it. Goddamn.