Today should just be eliminated altogether, just deleted from the annals of history, forgotten forever. Dramatic? Maybe. But it’s Monday, so it doesn’t count.
Top 10 Reasons why Monday shouldn’t count, at least, not this Monday:
10. Street sweeping day – I had to move my car by 8am, so I skipped my shower and came to work early in attempt to get my car off the street without another ticket. The list should just end right here.
9. Finance day at work – today is the day we all sit anxiously waiting for the counting team to tell us whether we’ve brought in enough money to cover payroll.
8. Counting team is late – so I get to sit here for an extra hour of waiting, filtering through thoughts like: will I be able to pay rent tomorrow? Do I get to keep my health care for one more month?
7. Financial advisor arrives – he too is miffed that the counting team is late, let’s me know that he’d like to cover payroll before paying Edison (thanks for that) and let’s me know that my new spreadsheet is brilliant (there’s a glimmering sparkle of silver).
6. Decisions – I get to make all these seemingly monumental financial decisions today. Before 10am I have already freaked out and can’t even decide where to go to lunch.
5. “Betty” arrives with her new little dog (names have been changed to protect the innocent) – “Betty”, our volunteer phone answer lady, comes in with her brand new little dog. Her doctor said she needed a companion, so she went out and spent $1700 on this little shit. Let me explain about “Betty”; she’s an aging, single, diabetic, overweight lady who lives across the street from the church. She has this wretched hacking cough and whenever anyone asks her how she’s doing, she always answers, “Oh I’m blessed.”
My mind takes a wild spin off the financial road and delves into the depths of a potential future I’d rather not consider: I don’t want to be “Betty”. Good Lord, I don’t want to be “Betty”. I don’t want my doctor to tell me that I need a companion and then have to shell out a thousand bucks for a shit smelling dog that I carry around in my purse. Dear God, don’t let me end up being “Betty”.
What if I end up like “Betty”? Or worse, “Miss Dorothy” – the old lady who’s never been married, but was engaged once and has like a bazillion cats in her house, and wears high heals with jogging pants and pearls. I don’t even like animals that much! What if I end up 50 and alone and the only companion I can find is a mangy pet who sheds and stinks and craps all over the place? Am I really going to end up like that? Did “Betty” and “Miss Dorothy” ever think they’d end up like that? That’s so terribly tragic.
Sorry, I lost track… where was I? Ah, reason number 4…
4. People are so very strange – I got a message from a man whose father died two years ago, saying they are going to burry him this Thursday. Really? He died TWO YEARS AGO and you’re going to have him buried THIS Thursday?
3. Two homeless guys vying for… whatever it is one vies for here.
2. Homeless guy number one – his flea infested dog trots fleas in all over the office and every time he comes within two feet of the front door I catch a drift of that dirty, nauseating dog smell that literally makes my stomach churn.
1. It’s not even 11am yet and already I’m starving, and broke, and … the final financial count has come in. It’s looking dim, my friends, dim.
And all of the sudden I jump out from behind my desk, dance across the office and burst into a rousing rendition of, “the sun will come out, tomorrow! Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow…”
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