It’s my life

Let it suffice to say that me and Mondays. . . not best friends.

It’s not that Mondays has ever been all that terrible to me. It’s just that because they’re the first day of the work week, and I never want to get up. And it’s Monday. Eww.

Take today for example.

4:55 a.m.: Alarm goes off. I am momentarily very confused, then hit the snooze button.

5:04 a.m.: Alarm sounds again. I manage to drag myself out of bed this time and take Muffin outside. Fun times. Then it’s time to put out Muffin’s food, grind the coffee, and set the coffee to delayed brew. I pour myself a little glass of OJ and head back upstairs.

5:15 a.m.: Lately, I’ve made a special effort to spend some time reading Scripture and studying it, then praying before I start my day. It’s something I knew was woefully neglected in my life and in my desire to go deeper in my relationship with Christ, I decided making time for it, even if it was extremely early in the morning was absolutely imperative. So today, I began reading 1 Timothy.

5:30 a.m.: Close the Bible, brush teeth, take a shower.

5:40 a.m.: Dry off, comb crazy, unruly, needs-to-be-cut hair. Apply moisturizer and sunscreen. Makeup is definitely imperative today. I look awful with these bags under my eyes. Seriously, what’s the deal?

5:51 a.m.: OK, makeup helped. But where did that zit come from? I mean, come on, I’m 29 years old. I am not going through puberty. I am almost 30! Why in the crap am I still dealing with zits? This is not fair.

5:55 a.m.: Must get hair dry. I really need a haircut. I know, I’ll turn the hair dryer to hot heat and it’ll dry faster. And I’ll flip my head over and dry it upside down for more volume. This actually works, but now the bottom layers are dry and the top one don’t seem to want to dry. And this dryer is blistering my scalp. Turn it down to warm heat and continue drying, trying to tame the unruly front strands with the round brush. No luck. They just flip out and I decide I don’t care. Maybe it’s flattering this way. Who really cares? It’s Monday.

6:05 a.m.: Well, my hair’s not really dry, but I really don’t care. What am I going to wear? These pants are comfy. And that top. I think. Does this match? Where’s my tank top for underneath said top? Crap, is everything downstairs on the drying rack? I think so! Fun times.

6:10 a.m.: Geeze, I need to be getting downstairs. And, wow, my hair is a mess. Maybe I can pin it back. Oh, well, that’s not looking so great, and it’s definitely not dry, but I don’t really care. I’ve got to go!

6:20 a.m.: OK, downstairs. Pour coffee. Fix bagel for breakfast. CRAP! I forgot to make my lunch last night! Dang it! That’s what I was supposed to do after I got back from having ice cream. Oh, well. I guess I’ll make a salad. That’ll work. Oh, and chips and homemade salsa.

6:25 a.m.: Lunch made. Time to get Muffin settled and gated in the kitchen. And now my fingers smell like that chicken I put on the salad. Even after I washed them. That’s kind of gross. Hop the gate, realize my gym bag is upstairs, run up the stairs, grab it, clatter back down. Pick up my lunch, coffee, purse, journal, gym bag and head out the door.

6:30 a.m.: Seriously. I should so be on the road by now. Why won’t the back door just stay open when I’m trying to put my stuff in the backseat? Because it hates me, that’s why.

6:32 a.m.: Wave at the couple out for an early morning walk in my complex. Cute dog.

6:35 a.m.: I hate the Nolensville-Harding Place intersection. I’ll get on the interstate further up on Nolensville.

6:45 a.m.: So I’m just taking Nolensville all the way into downtown. I’m already late. And I like driving up Broadway past all the touristy places and bars and seeing them all shut down and sleeping, without the blaring neon signs.

6:50 a.m.: Dang it, now it’s going to be 7 a.m. before I get to work.

7 a.m.: I’m here. And I’m thrilled. Nap a bit on the elevator.

7:10 a.m.: Karen thinks that the post-it note decorating of her office we did on Friday is funny. She’s a better sport than me. I guess I better get to work. Wait, what’s that email?

7:15 a.m.: Thank you, scheduler. I wanted to know that I was late on that project. Why didn’t you just point and say “Mandy’s a slacker!”?

It’s Monday, folks. And it’s going to be a good one! Might as well smile and accept it 🙂