Fuck Monday

I won’t sing that song but you know the song I mean. God, I don’t want it to be monday. I’ve been trying to drag my sorry ass up outta the chair to get dressed for work for at least a fuckin’ hour and I can’t face the idea. I’m in that irritating place where […]

I won’t sing that song but you know the song I mean.

God, I don’t want it to be monday. I’ve been trying to drag my sorry ass up outta the chair to get dressed for work for at least a fuckin’ hour and I can’t face the idea. I’m in that irritating place where I’m mostly well but don’t have my energy back; I feel enough better that I’m happy about being better, but not enough better that I can deal with picking up the loose ends I left lying around last week.

I keep thinking about swaying palm trees and tropical breezes and a delicious, Beautiful island girl by my side. Someone fetch me a coconut full of rum and then rub some oil on my shoulders, hmmm?

Ok. Here’s me getting into my jeans and going to work. Really. Any second now. Watch me go. That’s it.

Really this time. I mean it.

*sigh*

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