Mondays...

…you’re fat or thin, ugly or blah, short, tall, restless, complacent, tired, wired, bored, hyped up, sinister, spinster, married, depressed, everything is yuck or fucked or no ones getting fucked and why is that?  Because it’s Monday and too much is suspicious and not enough is a shame and breakfast seems all too hard yet is it the most important meal of the day and oh shut up I’ll eat when I’m hungry, I’m in charge of me although the universe has other thoughts, what to wear? Do I care? Green eggs and ham, what’s with a cat wearing a hat? Money is the root of all evil, come make me real evil, ask me again why the paper towels are an inch to big but see, I thought men were all about being bigger? Is there a point to life? Is that a point on the top of your head?  Are you an alien? Do aliens have Monday issues? Negativity? Positivity? Ice-cream delivered on a hourly bases by half naked tattooed men. That’s what I need to get through Monday. Actually just the ice-cream magically appearing on my desk – not close enough that I put my elbow into it – and the men can be sent to my home to finish the chook house which is why I should stay at home today because it’s Monday and sickies should be encourage even though Tuesday is apparently is the most popular day to take off but I say to hell with being popular. Do I have a bad attitude towards Monday? Yes and shut up. It's my attitude and I'll attitude if I want to.  And, and I haven’t even got to work yet….bring on Tuesday…hmmm…I may be sick…