On understanding Monday hate

I normally don't complain about Mondays. It's a bit too generic. People who all theatrically go "ugh, Mondays" tend to annoy me more than inspire any kind of sympathy. Today, however, I had my own case of Absolute Shit Monday Syndrome, and I'm starting to understand the sighs and frustration surrounding the whole thing.

It's the kind of despair that can only be told through Garfield minus Garfield comics.

First, I couldn't sleep properly. After napping on the couch yesterday watching a less than satisfying Eddie Izzard show (because the new stuff just doesn't compare to the old stuff), I had a relatively hard time falling asleep. This morning, I kept waking up over and over again in anticipation for the alarm to ring in time for me to get up and do laundry before work. Of course the laundry totally misfired, taking a whole lot longer than I'd anticipated, and then deciding not to dry all together, leaving me with very little time and very cold and wet jeans. Now I don't have any other black pants suitable for restaurant work that fit me, so I had to pull these pants of water torture on and brave the cold weather, having missed the bus I needed to get on to get in time. Luckily I was sent out on errands, so my arriving 30 minutes late to work wasn't all that much of a catastrophe as it could've been. Obviously it's bad though - I've never been late for work before, but as long as I don't make it a habit I'm sure it'll be okay.

Anywho, today was the most boring day in a long time. Short bursts of a lot of people were combined with long stretches of just enough to do so as not to have time to read, but not enough to do so as not to be bored senseless. And time went by so slow! Every minute dragged on, and by the time I was beginning to feel like the day couldn't get any longer, I glanced at the clock only to learn that it was only 7 p.m. and the evening had hardly even begun. It was like time tried swimming through jam as a means of transportation. Come on, time, everyone knows that's not a viable option so knock it the fuck off.

At least I wasn't as crazy hormonal as I've been feeling the last couple of days, so going out for a beer with Moonlight was completely as it used to be and without any of my recent insanity and grouchiness, which I think was restful for the both of us. I still don't really know what's going on with that, but I'm much less angsty about it. It'll sort itself out. So given this day of absolute crap, it still ended up pretty nicely. Tomorrow will be a regular day of working regular hours, which is a welcome change from the past few weeks. Coupled with the fact that I only work four days next week in preparation for ten freaking days off means that I can go ahead and sway my way through this in a manner that's far less tired and grumpy than I would've otherwise. At least that's something. A pretty good something, even.