I fucking love Mondays. I am an “up and at ‘em” type of woman, and I’m almost always at my desk around 7:30 on Monday mornings. I’m excited to start the week. I’m excited to get work done. I’m excited to fix any gaffes from the week before. It’s a wonderful fantastic feeling.
And every single fucking week, by 10:00, there have been enough frustrations and fuck-ups to make me throw my hands up in disgust, crave a (forbidden while at work because I’m a lady and this is still Benin, after all) cigarette, and leave early for lunch to get out of the office while I still have my sanity.
By the time Tuesday rolls around, I generally manage to get everything back under control and running smoothly. Nevertheless, the weekly disaster that is Monday morning leaves me tense, angry, and pissed off as hell.
I fucking hate Mondays.