Monday strikes again

I sometimes think that the universe has an uncanny way of balancing itself.  For every teenage girl who thinks that she's fat when she really isn't, there's a middle-aged man staring at his potbelly in the mirror thinking "girl-bait, pure bloody, girl-bait".  And so the teetering seesaw in the adventure playground of life has seen fit to manifest in my little corner of the bark chip too.

I had a weekend so full of awesomenosity (a word that I did just make up and yes, you can use it if you like) that the only possible outcome would be for it all to bite me in the behind on Monday.

After a full weekend which included quiz winning, concert-going, giggle fits, hotpooling and chocolate brownies interspersed by short, unsatisfying sprinkles of sleep, it was inevitable that Monday would rear up and try and slap me back down to earth.  It's good like that.  Here's how my Monday-ness breaks down.

7.15am Wake up after roughly four hours' sleep to find it is Monday.  Consider hacking off a limb with a garden implement so that I will have a really good, medical certificate-worthy excuse for a day off before realising that I do not own any sufficiently destructive garden implements.

9.10am Having made it to work (hurrah!) I discover that my laptop, which has never given me any grief before, does not want to play nicely.  I try rebooting it three times before admitting to myself that I need to call tech support.  After an exhaustive round of trouble-shooting during which I'm really starting to regret not following through with my earlier "hacked off limb" plan, a solution is found in the form of...rebooting my laptop.  Apparently, it decides on the fourth attempt that I have suffered enough and acts like I'm the one who has the problem.  By the time I've successfully logged in to my email for the first time I've spent the better part of an hour getting this sorted and I'm way behind on my schedule of jobs for the morning.

1.30pm I accidentally write on something in permanent marker pen that I shouldn't have written on in permanent marker pen.  Monday relents a little by allowing me to get the Sharpie off the besmirched surface by writing over it in whiteboard marker, a strategy that I had heard of before but had always assumed was a load of crap, you know, like how leaving a half empty softdrink bottle on your lawn will stop dogs from using it as a commode.  I can't believe it.  It's a Monday miracle.

2.35pm This is when I finally get to have lunch, by which time my tummy has started to get very vocal and sounds as if it is attempting to sing an aria by Puccini.  I don't much like opera so I trot off to the dairy to buy a caffeinated beverage to go with the lunch I intend to feed it.  At the lights I am surprised to find that my left arm does not want to come with me when I step off the footpath into the intersection.  I look back to see that the sleeve of my regulation librarian's cardigan has become snagged on a small bolty-looking thing on the traffic light pole. 

From a distance I can't help thinking that it probably looks like I am holding hands with it.  I know I don't have a boyfriend but I'm not yet desperate enough to start dating traffic fixtures.  For one thing the goldy-orange paint on it does not go well with my olive complexion so I cannot see that we have much of a future together.  And what about the kids?

2.45pm While reading over lunch I spill Thai takeaway on some of the pages of my book.  It's a library book.  I'm the first person to have it.  For the rest of its borrowing life it will be tainted by orangey oily stains.  The guilt is overwhelming.  My apologies to whomever next reads The internet is a playground by David Thorne.  Sorry.  Apart from the very slight aroma of chicken pad thai, it's a very good book though.  I would recommend it.  Perhaps if you're interested you could borrow a different copy?

So, you get the drift.  Monday was a particularly hard slog this week.  Did you perhaps fare better than I did?  High points?  Low points?  Near disasters?  Does Monday suck up to you or does it look at you and laugh?

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