Monday, Monday

I had another one of those "bite me" Mondays. I loathe Mondays...I begin the angst and anguish on Sunday evening when I go to bed. There is no escaping it. If you didn't have Mondays the agony would just be moved to Tuesday, or Wednesday or Thursday.

Each week I think that the next Monday certainly cannot be as sucky as the last Monday was. Then Monday morning comes and I trot off to work ever hopeful that this Monday will be different. This Monday will be less busy. This Monday I won't come home grouchy and ready to rumble with anyone who gives me the least bit of resistance (meaning my two wild, wacky and wonderful children who torment me for something to do and entertainment). On Mondays the family shenanigans are at personal peril to life and limb.

I've decided the only rational solution to Mondays is alcohol. I plan to come home on Mondays and have a drink, or two or three to relax and forget about my day. Hopefully then the only thing at peril is my liver and I'll eliminate the threat of ending up wearing day-glo orange coveralls serving 8 to life.