The Mama's and the Papa's were so right about Mondays. "Monday, Monday.... can't trust that day." How is it that the inanimate objects in our lives all seem to know when it's Monday? Coffee jumps out of its mug into your car seat (the one you're sitting in at the time). Car tires find that little shard of glass, declaring it's time for a replacement. Clothes dryers decide to go into early retirement. Several hundred peanuts decide they'd like to relocate across the entire kitchen floor rather than stay cooped up in their jar. Or that cupboard door that knocks the scooper full of coffee grounds out of your hand and all across the kitchen counter. Trust me folks, those inanimate objects conspire against us.
And let's not forget the living. Your your little dog decides it would rather do it's business on your living room rug because it's too cold to go outside. Your boss decides to unload a dozen gotta-do's on you first thing in the morning. Or how about those six overlapping meeting invites that all occur before the day is half over? And let's not forget that person standing in front of you in Starbucks who, after being in line for 10 minutes, still can't decide what they want when it's time to order. Or the person in the express checkout line at the grocery store who waits for every item to be checked and bagged and then decides to write a check. And let's not forget my favorite, the person who pulls out in front of you, forcing you to slam on your breaks, who then proceeds to drive 10 miles per hour slower than the limit, but just fast enough so THEY can get through the intersection while you get stopped at the light.
Every other day of the week is fine, yeah.... Monday, you just leave me cryin'....
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