Today was the Monday-est Wednesday ever. Monday’s have a reputation for dragging you kicking and screaming, nails clawing desperately at the weekend past in an attempt to cling to that effortless joy of a lazy Sunday, and into the bleakness of the workload and worries ahead.
It’s not often the subject of happy love songs or ideal moments. It’s the equivalent of the universe flipping you the bird.
Tuesday can be cruel but you’re sort of catching your breath and finding a groove. Tuesday still leaves you with lingering memories of how great it was not setting your alarm, and leisurely strolls from the couch to the fridge for binge worthy snacks to accompany binge worthy shows.
Wednesday is hump day. A unanimously agreed upon game changer for your mood (only two days until you can return to your natural state of gluttony and sloth) since you’re half way through. I can do two more days! Helllllooooo HUMP day! Someone needs to turn the volume up because this girl can almost taste Friday!
This brings me circling back to the present and how totally not like a present it was. Every kid at work was spring loaded for action and bouncing off of walls and each other, which, while tolerable if you are the bouncer feels intolerable if you are the bounced upon.
I was very bounced upon.
Then there was the “fresh air break”. In sideways, misting, curly haired horrifying, damp to the bone, wet socks in wet shoes “fresh air”. Please understand I LOVE what the rain does for the earth, but I’m not overly fond of what it does to ME. At least not when I’m going to spend the many hours after it squelching along hospital floors in my wet socks and wet shoes, while children cower and cry at the sight of my antagonized tresses. It’s not me at my best. It’s not even me at my okayest.
In the hours following I averted meltdowns, I soothed meltdowns, I managed meltdowns, I documented meltdowns for posterity and then wanted to meltdown standing ankle deep in a mud puddle getting out of my car while simultaneously being muddy-pawed eagerly by my dogs.
It was the Monday-est Wednesday ever and I’m taking my ball and going home. I’m done adulting for the rest of the week. Wake me for the weekend.
