I mean, sure, we have to go back to work after having a blissful two days of acting like children and doing whatever the hell we want, (to some extent, anyways... which is why I believe that parties and weddings and showers and other obligatory events should be scheduled during the week, but let's save that for another blog post) but really, it's too early in the work week for some new shit to have hit the fan, and that gives us time to catch up on whatever we neglected on Friday in favor of socializing/playing Frogger/taking 3 hour lunch breaks. Besides, no one schedules meetings on Mondays, because we're all just trying to re-adjust to the blinding fluorescent lights and updating our countdowns to retirement.
But Tuesdays... Tuesdays are a different story. I think Tuesdays were created by Satan himself on a whim, because after all that down time on Friday and Monday, everyone comes into the office and goes, "Fuck. I actually need to get some shit done today." This leads to a sudden influx of meeting requests, which results in a rise in panic company-wide as we all wonder how we're going to get our work done while we're sitting in pointless meetings all day talking about all the work we have to get done. I hate Tuesdays. If I could erase one day from the week, it would be Tuesday. The photo below further illustrates how I really feel about this particular day:
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| Fuck you, Tuesday. |
The rest of the week is cake, really. Wednesday is Hump Day, generally a fairly innocuous day of the week. Thursday is so close to Friday that it almost feels like a mini-Friday, and besides that, Thursday's are home to Grey's Anatomy and Ladies Nights galore. (Hello, drink specials, am I right?) And Friday, well, Friday speaks for itself. Saturday and Sunday are clearly a gift from Jesus. I know that Sunday is sometimes tinged with the dread of returning to work on Monday, but there's generally enough good TV on to distract you from the fact. Case in point: Homeland, Dexter, Once Upon A Time, Family Guy, Shameless, House of Lies, and of course, in the fall, football. I'm also kind of digging that new 666 Park Avenue show this year... but I digress. The point is, my DVR puts in some hard core overtime on Sundays.
This particular Wednesday wasn't as innocuous as usual. I woke up this morning, and I just couldn't do it. I couldn't. Literally. I turned on the shower and stood there for ten minutes having an internal argument with myself before shutting off the water and crawling back into bed. I haven't allowed myself one of these types of days since my mom died, so I tried not to feel too badly about it. I did work from home. I didn't shower or change out of my pajamas (shout out to Carrie for spending her lunch break with me and hugging me anyways. Love you Care Bear.) I did eat five Ring Pops (one for each finger on my left hand - I had to be fair; the right hand was jealous, but its time will come) over the course of the day, and the sustenance that I rotated in between said Ring Pops had little to no nutritional value. I didn't, however, break down and eat the entire box of Toaster Strudels that have been living in my freezer, taunting me with their deliciousness for the past few weeks, so I'm taking that as a sign that I'm still clinging to some semblance of sanity. Food is my crutch, and a tendency towards emotional eating is my cross to bear. I keep reminding myself that I'm not going to find my mom, or love, at the bottom of a box of Reese's Peanut Butter Puffs, but sometimes, I just have to test that theory to make sure.
| If you buy me this, I will love you forever. |
On the plus side, I put my sadness and frustration to good use today; I cleaned the house and cooked dinner for my sister, dad, and Nancy - Shrimp Scampi & broccoli, and yes, I am available for hire - and coerced them into helping me put up Halloween decorations. I am a freak for Halloween. It looks like Jack Skellington threw up in my house, and I love it. Maybe I'll post a picture... or maybe you should just come see for yourself. My door is always open, and I love to cook. Just make sure you give me enough notice... and in lieu of flowers, bring Ring Pops.
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