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I stopped letting Mondays shock me years ago. I’ve come to expect the twisted sense of humor that this day brings to the party of life. As a matter of fact, if it ever showed up wearing the grace of Tuesday, the submissiveness of Wednesday, the refinement of Thursday, the party vibe of Friday, the free spirit of Saturday or the serenity Sunday I’d be disappointed. The universe would be turned on it’s proverbial, celestial ear.
Monday is meant to be manic, comical, can’t-believe-that-just-happened-oh-wait!-it-is-Monday-after-all, awkward and damnable. Leave the loafers for Wednesday and give Saturday it’s Reeboks – Monday, being cloven-footed, needs neither.
At this end, it’s 7:42 AM and it’s already working the Harpo Marx facade. Cretinous little ants are marching in through the back door, the coffee is too strong, offspring won’t spring up, the internet connection is maddeningly slow, I’ve got a baseball loss hangover (My Cardinals lost yesterday. Er, to the Royals.) Went to get dressed, a mustard stain was on my top of choice. I don’t eat mustard.
It has even affected our cats. The one inside is in a reflective, distant mood, as though she’s just now feeling a wrong from long ago. She’s harboring ill will toward someone, I just hope it isn’t me.
“O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven! Keep me in temper. I would not be mad.” – William Shakespeare
Our outside cat got into trash the night before and has a air of satisfaction on her face. She knows she contributed mightily to the Monday mania and, I swear, was smiling as I cleaned up the mess. (Have you ever noticed what work voyeurs cats are?)
I wonder why it is that we’re often the most thrown by the small things in life. If I had broken an ankle getting out of bed, I would’ve taken it in a hobbled stride. [ Memo to the Monday gods, I’m not tempting you!] But let a few tiny little annoyances pile up, and I crumble like a cookie. Crumble like a cookie? How trite, how predictable, how common, how threadbare. How perfect for a Monday.
“What can you do against the lunatic who is more intelligent than yourself, who gives your arguments a fair hearing and then simply persists in his lunacy?” – George Orwell
Make each moment count double,