I have a love-hate relationship with Monday just as quite a few others do when it comes to the first day of most people’s work week. The photo above is me pretty much every Sunday. I feel like it sneaks up on me every damn weekend. I probably should be used to it by now, but I’m not. I have this ever pressing need to scream out my frustration every single time I look at the clock on Sunday afternoon. It hits me like a ton of bricks that I only have a few more hours before I have to get some rest in order to start my work week.
It often makes me wonder who in the hell determined we as a society should have a standard work week of five days on and two days off? That is CRAP! Are you kidding me?
If anything, it should be four days on and three days off. My goodness. Oh, how amazing that would be!
This is what I’m thinking when I first wake up on a Monday:
These are just because they cracked me up:
This is what I feel the moment I check my evil, bitchy, and negative side:
**From the journal of a clustered mind.**