Brace yourselves. For today you will see me at my worst. Or my best. Who knows. Maybe I write better grumpy.
It’s Monday. And I hate Mondays. I also don’t like mornings. So the two of those combined are my worst nightmare. And today, for whatever reason, I am grumpier than usual.
In all honesty, I have plenty to not be grumpy about. I got some cool new rabbit fur slippers yesterday, and I love them. I have a nice warm jacket. I have books to read. I have a blog to run. I have novels to write and people who like them. I have people to talk to. I’m not starving, I’ve had coffee, I don’t have an awful disease or anything. I don’t have to go to the dentist. Sam put a new song at out today. Old Town Ferris Wheel Adventure
I have tons of things to be thankful for.
I have tons of reasons to suck it up and deal with Monday.
But for some reason, I feel inconsolably grumpy. It’s not like anything bad has happened today. It’s just cloudy and cold and Monday.
For whatever reason, that has turned me into a grumpy antisocial person who feels like going around and whacking people with stale baguettes.
I think Monday might be out to get me. I think it doesn’t like me just as much as I really don’t like it. I should feel sorry for Monday, I know. The most hated day of the week. The day we all get out of bed and greet like it’s rubbish.
But I don’t feel sorry at all for Monday. Instead I’m glaring daggers at it like it’s all its fault that I’m grumpy (it is it’s fault too.). But maybe Monday isn’t a sad little person like we paint it to be.
Maybe Monday is an grouchy person who enjoys inflicting us with loud alarm noises, lots of school, running late, and rainy, cloudy days.
In that case, it fully deserves the hatred with which I glare at it.
But then again, I always did have a flair for the melodramatic.
I know some people who really like Monday (yes, they are out there, I know, I was flabbergasted as well). They like waking up early and beginning the week. They like going to work or doing school and they greet Monday with open arms and ask what it will bring.
I, on the other hand, pull my covers up to my head and wish desperately for Sunday back.
The former is probably the better way to go, but I find myself stuck in the latter. Like a muddy cold rut I can’t get out of.
So I’ll just have to survive until Tuesday, eh?
I think I’ll go make another cup of coffee while I’m at it.