Fiddle Faddle Mondays

The Mamas & The Papas were on to something with Monday, Monday, and nothing would be a better accompaniment to this post. Go ahead, hit play, then start reading...



Mondays have a reputation. Mondays get a bad rap. Mondays deserve it.

To begin, that weekend Euro-Grunge just won't cut it - The Man demands a baby face. Unless you're a part of the IT department, you best reach for that razor. But the Monday morning shave is tricky due to the length of weekend whiskers. There's always that ONE hair that gets a pass by the Mach 3. The rogue follicle is like a middle finger screaming, "HA HA. Fuck you! You missed!"

Next up is a stomach revolt from a gluttonous weekend. Was it the corn dogs, nachos, Fiddle Faddle, beer, Pop Rocks, or Red Bull? Not sure. What is clear is a tremendous amount of gurgling and pressure from within. Like a caged Wookie, the gut groans for freedom. Attempts at quelling the rebellion are futile. A painful paunch is inescapable.

Not that coffee will help the tummy troubles, but bags under the eyes dictate the abuse of caffeine. Unfortunately, coworkers seem to have forgotten how to mix beans and water over the weekend - the brew is impotent. Cup after cup, nothing happens. And then, at roughly 10:02, the nervous system catches up to the new addiction - you're suddenly as cracked out and jittery as Charlie Sheen at the AVNs.

How is it that work computers seem to be in a worse state than their users on Mondays? Outlook is hungover, internet browsers are lethargic, and Excel has a case of the Mondays. Roughly twenty minutes passes from the time you log in to the time you're up and running, and then the computer rewards you with some sort of "fatal memory dump." If no errors appear, check your files - that major project probably got deleted by evil Windows goblins.

Once the comatose computer has been conquered, the bursting email inbox must be tackled. The inbox has ignored mail from last week but also contains weekend mail. There are overachievers in the office - a list of them can be viewed under email received on Saturday and Sunday. They make you look bad. They increase your Monday workload. They hate you.

None of this will matter come Tuesday morning. It'll all be forgotten...until next week. But cheer up. Heads high. As The Mamas & The Papas say "every other day of the week is fine..."

xoxo,
ShavedGolf