Hosted by: 79sparrows
“Sunday, Bloody Sunday” in the words of Bono. The problem with Sunday, is although it is technically is part of the ‘weekend,’ it also prefaces Monday. It is that part of the day that my mind wanders to ‘what will I be walking into tomorrow?’ It’s not like I work for Donald Trump, but my job has it’s own very unique challenges. My office is the textbook example of “blockage.” Management is incompetant and most lack basic social skills. Here is a conversation I overheard in the elevator the other day:
Suit 1 : “Well, it’s my floor. See you around.”
Suit 2: “See you around like a donut.”
I de-boarded also, in the wake of Suit 1 & 2 chuckling away.
So…tomorrow is Monday. Johnny Cash didn’t write “Sunday Morning Coming Down” for no good reason. Sunday is a bummer; a Debbie Downer if you will. (Not so much in the morning, but afternoon/evening/night.)
Also, as a kid, I hated school. The Sunday Evening Anxiety Party has been going on for quite some time.
Let’s talk about something nice. I’ll list some sexiness, and pretend I’m prepared to face my OCD/verge of meltdown/unreasonable/insane boss tomorrow.
Taking a bath is fun!