The Mondayest Monday that wasn’t

I want to hide under my desk.  I want to crawl into one of my file drawers and stay there until all the kids have gone home to their parents.  I want to find the man who invented the alarm clock and pummel him until he permanently snoozes.  I want…Monday to be over.

The first Monday back from a vacation is the Mondayest Monday one could have.  Anything that might be annoying garfield mondayat a normal level automatically becomes a capital crime.  The air is a little more bitter.  The food is a little less flavorful. The grass…actually still burns just as mellow.

By this point in the day I have endured most of what Monday had in store for me and, to be honest, it actually hasn’t been bad at all.  Yes, I want to hide under my desk; but I always want to hide under my desk.  It’s not that I’m allergic to being back at work, or Mondays.  I just have come to feel better complaining about work and Mondays regardless of how they actually treat me.

I need to ease into the thought of work.  Sometimes I have to almost trick myself into doing it because everything else seems so much more interesting.  On days like today where all of a sudden I’m expected to be more outwardly productive than I have in weeks, I begin to feel the walls closing in on me.  Even when in actuality my day consisted of greeting people and talking about the holidays, I still feel the urge to feel put upon.  This is my Monday right.

Mondays are like the first set at the gym when you haven’t worked out in a while.  They’re like falling off a bicycle when you’re determined to master a trick.  They are the part of the week that gives you a chance to prove to yourself that you can do it (whatever it is).  Tuesdays are so much easier because of Monday.  Friday afternoon is so much sweeter because of all that went down at the beginning of the week.

Maybe it's you....
Maybe it’s you….

I have been preparing myself for the first day back for a while now.  Stepping back into my daily hustle is challenging; I’ve gotten used to being able to blog when I want and have waffles at 11:30am.  I can’t go hide under my desk; there are too many children around who would get suspicious.  But then, I look out at the clock — where did the time go? I’ve spent so much time bitching about how much today is going to suck that it’s over and I missed all the sucking.

Time to relax.  Time to appreciate how good my life actually is.  Time to let go of the things that get in the way of my happiness.  And time to accept the routine that ulitmately pays for my more enjoyable endeavors and quit all my complaining.

Not bad, for a Monday.

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