Mondays = Throw Up Noise

I’m currently downing a coffee the size of my head. Why? Because I am ti-red, that’s why. A long workday last Thursday, followed by an early morning (alarm clocks just should not go off at 5am) on Friday, followed up by a busy weekend (in which sleep was not a priority), has me ready to crash.

But, it’s Monday, and crashing is not an option. Aren’t Mondays a bitch? I know, I know – the resolution – blah, blah. I curse. I’m sorry. I’m working on it. Mondays always remind you that you’re a grown up, and I don’t know about you, but I’m really not fond of being reminded of that.

Remember in college when you would wake up, look at the clock, and decide – nope, not going. Life was so much easier when you could skip the parts you didn’t like and just get “the notes” from someone else. Wasn’t it easier when you could go out on Thursday night, Friday night and Saturday night, and recover all day Sunday…without feeling guilty that you didn’t go to church, or that you might have a drinking problem? Didn’t life seem less stressful when the biggest problem you had was that you hadn’t done your reading all semester, and had to cram all of the information you missed into your brain (and onto a note card) the night before the final? Or when your biggest relationship issue was deciding whom you should take to the ADPi formal, and whom you could get to take you to Old South?

Now, if (and that’s a pretty big if – Benton scolded me yesterday for being anti-social as of late) I go out one night, I’m done. Two nights is just not an option anymore, and three nights is laughable. My stress level is significantly higher now that I’m a responsible employee with deadlines and accountability and such. And relationships? No comment.

So, today, as I drink the last of my coffee and am already planning to pop open a Diet Coke, I’m missing the days of my youth. Not really because I’d like them back (I’m way cuter now, thankyouverymuch), but because they didn’t involve the Monday morning blahs.