A case of the Mondays.
My wife asked me on Sunday, “today is technically Sunday right?” I thought that was an odd question and replied with a smart remark; but she was right. A Monday holiday reduced Sunday to simply being technically a Sunday.
As soon as church ended, Sunday took on the persona of Saturday. I cut the grass, Lauren cleaned. I grilled dinner, we watched a movie. Monday was coming, but without alarms, appointments, or ties.
As advertised Monday came lazily and passed lethargically, like a Sunday night, with school-night bedtimes and lunch preps. Alarms were set, the work week upon us.
Today, technically a Tuesday, started bitterly cold and seemingly too dark for 6:00 am. By 7:00 am I am using the plunger to clear my six year old’s “really big poop” from the upstairs toilet because, it’s really a Monday.
The line from Office Space, “It looks like someone has a case of the Mondays” wouldn’t be so memorable if it wasn’t so relatable. But pointing it out is like telling a grumpy person they’re being grumpy.
My toddler has, of course, taken both her shoes and socks off on the way to daycare forcing me to remove my gloves and stand in the bitter cold redressing her. Because, it’s really a Monday.
Carrying her across the street the wind blows so hard my only jacket without dried snot on it loses that distinction. Because, it’s really a Monday.
My yogurt tastes funny and one of my vitamins rolls between my desk and the wall.
Tomorrow will start better than today. It has to, because today, is really a Monday.
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