I feel bad for the poor day, however. It’s not like it asked to be boring and dull and ho-hum. It’s the monochromatic sibling in a family of neons and pastels. No one wakes up on a Monday morning and jumps happily out of bed and chirps “Yay, it’s Monday! I can’t wait for the day of neverending work and monotony ahead of me to begin!” You think of Monday and you think, Crap, I have work. All week long. You think Monday, you automatically start to yawn because there is just something inherently tiring about Mondays. Monday is not known for being a day of festivity and glee. Nay. Monday wanted to be cool, but instead Monday wears clunky glasses and ill-fitting sweater jackets. Monday is Friday and Saturday’s nerdy older sister who would rather stay home and memorize the Periodic Table instead of go to the club and hook up with some greasy, over-tanned and over-muscled guy named Tony who wears waaay too much gel in his hair. Monday is a day of general blah-itivity. Monday is the Karen in the room (cool points if you caught the Dane Cook reference).
So…not only was it a droll and blah kind of Monday, it was a Monday after a three day weekend, one of those Mondays that you dread, especially when Christmas came the day before and you’re still kind of full of Yuletide spirit. I really was not looking forward to today because I wasn’t really in the mood to go to work and do workish stuff, but to make things worse, I had a ridiculous migraine all day long. My head was hurting when I went to sleep last night, but I figured it’d be gone by morning. Wrong. Not only was my head screaming when I got up, but I also had an upset stomach. Faaaabulous. I felt like I was completely hungover all day long, which wasn’t even fair because I haven’t touched alcohol in weeks. The phones were obnoxious at work, and I took a few ibuprofen and chased it with Mountain Dew to try to soothe the ferocious brain beast. I’m feeling a lot better, but my head is still kind of achy.
I just scrolled down my screen in my little composition work area and couldn’t help but notice the tags that WordPress suggested that have absolutely nothing to do with what I just wrote. I’ll share a few with you:
- Pablo Picasso
- Neon Indian (um, what?)
- Louis C.K. (whoever the hell that is)
Um…okay. Did any of you guys see anything that would remotely correspond to any of those tags in the first few lines of today’s post? No? Me neither. I just Googled this Louis C.K. fellow and apparently he’s a comedian. Okay…I can see how broadly he fits into the grand scheme of tagging things, but I’m still a little confused by the other suggestions. Whatever. I’m thinking maybe a certain blogging platform had too much non-virgin eggnog on Christmas morning. And on Kwanzaa/Boxing Day.
Speaking of holiday festivity and joy, I am wearing one of the new sweaters my mom and dad got me for Christmas. It’s comfy, it’s warm, and I like it. Especially because it’s all belted and business below my rack and ’80s prom dress above. It’s got that weird shoulder thing going on…I’ll find a pic to show you.
I feel like Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink, only cuter. I was messing with the shoulders all day to look like I really should have been at some kid’s Senior Prom, circa 1986 instead of at a Ford dealership, answering phones and informing people that our parts and service departments were closed due to the holiday. Too bad my hair was in a ponytail and I didn’t have a particularly gaudy corsage on hand, because I would have looked pretty damn awesome at that receptionist window.
Next time, next time.