Does anyone like Mondays? I mean out of the people that actually work on Mondays, not those blessed to start their work weeks on Tuesdays (and I don't care if that means you work Saturdays. Mentally, having Mondays off, is a huge advantage). No right? So why is Monday taking this out on just me?
It probably isn't, but that's totally what it felt like today.
It snowed a lot out here this weekend. Which means that the city grinds to a halt, we panic on the roads and we become a national laughing stock. Totally OK with all of that because it was a weekend and I was cozy at home with the opportunity to go out for a snow trek while it was still snowing. The Boyfriend and I engaged in some snow ball fights, made snow angels and wished that we already had our puppy (we put down a deposit last weekend!!! We will go back and choose him in about a month. He's a little tiny German Shepherd baby dog right now) so that we could watch him jump around in gloriously fresh snow.
By the time all our snow time fun was over, I was exhausted. But I still had the big awards show to watch and judge. Solution close at hand: vodka red bull. Just one at 3:30 to wake me up enough to watch the Oscars.
Bad decision. Not bad because I was drinking at 3:30. Bad because I didn't go with rum and coke.
Yes I made it all the way through the show no problem. But when it was finally time to go to bed and sleep? No dice. I spent the better part of the night in that horrible place between waking and sleep, hallucinating about Academy Award nominees.
Clearly I dozed off at some point (had to be after 2:43 when I last recall looking at the clock) because when my alarm went off at 6am, it woke me up. With a sore throat. Awesome. Possum.
At least it hadn't snowed anymore over night so the roads were clear.
Turns out that 'clear' is relative. The sidewalks had most of the snow removed from them, true. But the salting part of the process? Neglected. Which meant that that fine layer of snow that was left in the wake of the snow shovel, that had been compacted by the tramping of hundreds, perhaps thousands of well shod winter feet and then frozen in the sub-zero temps of the overnight period? Was lying in wait for me this morning.
I congratulated myself on navigating that normally tricky part of the path where I fell last year. Thought I was in the clear. All of a sudden my legs were flying out in front of me and and before I knew it I was lying on the icy path. My hat flew from my head on impact (I don't think that I did hit my head though) and I landed on my a$$ hard. A woman saw me and must not be from around here because she actually came over to see if I was OK rather than let me die in the slushy gutter.
Monday wasn't even finished with me. The underwire in my bra broke. I tried to MacGyver it by sticking some paper towel on the end of the wire digging into my flesh while I was sitting at my desk (because I only get to leave 3 times a day for a break and there was no way I was waiting til my lunch to deal with this) and I'm pretty sure someone saw me. It basically looked like I was stuffing my bra.
You know what? By that point, so beyond caring.
There's a lot of chocolate in my purse now. I dare you to try and take some away from me.
The good news is that Monday only comes once a week and tomorrow, being Tuesday, will be as far as I can be from a Monday. That and did you read the part about me getting a puppy?!?!