Go Home Monday, You're Drunk

Go Home Monday, You’re Drunk

I would say that today was the sort of day where a ton of ridiculous situations occurred, but that would be taking away from the context that this entire week was a week of complete shenanigans, the end of the universes’ patience, karmic retribution, and emotional train wrecks. This week, was one of such epic Monday proportions, that it would be a shame to keep it all to oneself, and to not, in some bassackwards way, find a morbid sort of humor in it. On huffingtonpost.com there are several articles, with excellent pictures I might add, depicting individuals in such awkward situations as to make you think that your entire life is nothing but peaches and orgasms, and I won’t pretend that this essay is half as entertaining; however, if you are at all acquainted with myself, I hope that you will split an ab or give at least a good snort or two.

 This week:

1)      I got off of work early. That was great. By ‘early’, I mean 0745, because I went to work at 0430 on a Monday morning, and literally did nothing until 0744. The instant that I left work, it began to pour down rain. Stomping/power walking down the sidewalk to my vehicle, since I park at least a solid hundred football fields from work so as to stick it to the meter maids, I rapidly came up on a little old lady, gracefully (is this something that comes with being 70+ years old?) taking up the center of the sidewalk. Naturally, I went for the pass. The instant that we were parallel, she whips out an impressive umbrella, and, unintentially, lands a solid left hook to my jaw with said preventative weather apparatus. She then follows this with a demand that I do not hog the sidewalk.

       Monday followed up with a beautiful day, beginning five minutes before I was scheduled to clock on for my second shift. Well played sir, well played. 

2)      My bike got stolen. $1,000 vehicular device, which, although I admit is not essential to my transportation needs, was a lot of fun, had many future plans wrapped around its handlebars, and was equivalent to approximately 40 man hours of work. Or 20 women hours, depending on which bra is worn to work. Immediately, I was livid, and looking for any available hoodlum to throttle. Ten treadmill miles and several whiskey neats later, I was feeling much more zen about the situation, and realized that the fact that my bike was insured, and that now I knew how to effectively file a police report could be a blessing in disguise. However, Evenrude, you were, and always will be, the shit.

3)      If you have, at any time, tried to do something that could possibly piss off Karma, such as try to pass a little old lady and take up .05% of the sidewalk, don’t do anything even mildly retarded for at least a week. Especially run errands unshowered and in spandex. Because, guess what? Karma is probably fed up with your punk ass, and before you know it you drop your keys in the center consul to reach for your wallet, hit the auto lock and shut the car door. And at that point, life is essentially simplified to you standing awkwardly in your practically-underwear, waiting for a cabby to arrive and inform you, less than 12 hours after you get bike-jacked, that your car is probably the easiest one to steal that he has yet encountered. And then you compensate said cabby $40 dollars for that knowledge. Or .25 of women hours.

4)      Just when you think that Monday must surely be passed out naked on the hood of their supervisor’s vehicle, wearing nothing but their birthday suit and a scuba mask, he/she/they/it strikes again. And by ‘strikes again’ I mean dumps a can of chili into your sheepskin slippers when you open the fridge, leaving you wondering 1) how the crap do you clean a former sheep? And 2) what the fuck kind of crack-whore -bastard are you, Monday?

5)      You run out of ketchup mid omlet. Nuf said.

6)      You receive a 12 hour nosebleed and suddenly your bathroom looks like it belongs to an emotional high schooler and/or dorm full of at least 8 women on the same cycle.

7)      I would like to say that that is all, but to prevent retribution before the upcoming Monday, I’m going to save this as a working draft. Stand by.