I’ve found that most people agree with Garfield on most things in life. I, too, have a great affinity for naps and lasagna, and a general distaste for cutesy sidekicks or slobbering imbeciles. However, there’s one thing that I tend to disagree with him on. Mondays. I find that I like Mondays. After the course of a weekend, I find it nice to get back to somewhat of a more slow pace. I miss hanging out with my kids, but I am able to get back to getting things done, I’ve got a pile of correspondence and whatnot that I ignored over the weekend, and basically, feel like I’m just getting reacquainted with life.
Tuesdays however. . . I hate them!
Seriously. Tuesdays are the days when I realize that I didn’t get nearly enough done on Monday, that I’ve got seven hundred piles of tasks that need to be done before the end of day or else Wednesday will be even worse. Tuesdays also mean that the optimism the weekend brings has completely faded away and I’m stuck solving problems over and over again for the rest of my life.
Tuesdays are, in my opinion, the worst day of the week.
That’s probably because I usually do buckle done on Tuesdays and get caught up and can then coast through the rest of the week. Wednesdays, in fact, tend to begin with me being completely lost on what I’ve got to do for the rest of the week. Thursdays are almost Fridays, and Fridays. . . well, no one works on Fridays, amiright?
Today. . . in case you are somehow unaware. . . is Tuesday. And I need more coffee.