Most people hate Mondays. I have a love/hate relationship with them. For many years, Monday was my day off from work, so I didn't have the typical dread like most nine-to-fivers do of dragging myself away from the weekend to face the beginning of another workweek.
Lately I've been working every other Monday. Still not too bad, but I do get that drag-butt syndrome on the days I have to get up and go in. The off days are still great; in fact I really enjoy Mondays when I have the day to myself. The downside, of course, is that Tuesday becomes my Monday and brings all the stereotypical Monday crap along with it.
I've always wondered why Garfield the cat despised Mondays. It's not like he had to get up early and go to work. He's a cat. His Monday hatred was an excuse to sleep all day and be grouchy to everyone, which he did no matter what day it was anyway. (I sometimes adopt a Garfield attitude, and much like the cat, my attitude can be quickly reversed with the consumption of coffee and/or lasagna.)
I worked all weekend, so today is my Monday off. I had an early doctor's appointment, so no sleeping in. Strike one. I had to dress somewhat respectably and fix myself up a bit, so no lazing around in my jammies with my hair all askew. Strike two. Have to go visit the vampires at the lab for bloodwork. Strike three, I'm out.
It's raining today, but to me that's not a strike against Monday. I like rainy days. Unfortunately I have to go drive in it again instead of sitting by the window with a book and a cup of tea. The groceries won't shop themselves. And the bloodwork... ugh. If I see anyone sparkling at the lab I'm totally Team GTFO.
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