“Good grief, I am such a spaz!”
-C.
Mondays are a particular trial. It’s not the going back to work that I mind so much as the atrophy of my brain that seems to occur on weekends that I’m forced to be reconciled with on Monday. I trip, break and lose things, and do injury to myself on Mondays more than any other day of the week! One such day I managed to trip while walking down the stairs, luckily managing to land catlike on my feet, much to J.’s amusement, but I still somehow contrived to drop all of the mail that afternoon, give myself two papercuts, and trip coming up some stairs in the office. Today has been free of gravitational catastrophe, but I’ve screwed up the same hiring paperwork three times in a row and stabbed myself with a letter opener. I’m currently trying to see if we can move our sofas into our new apartment tonight…but now I’m wondering if it’s wise to consider moving heavy furniture…
I suppose Garfield was right about Mondays.
imagine how much worse it would be if you got plastered every weekend…love you;)