The reason for the bad rap

I look at the thermometer on Monday morning and it reads in the thirties.

I hate winter.

I hate mornings.

Grudgingly, I don a hat and gloves along with my heaviest turtleneck sweater.

I somehow manage to arrive at work cold AND sweaty, seemingly having overestimated just how cold thirty degrees really is.

I get the last cup of hazelnut coffee at the coffee shop, which sounds like a good thing, but the last cup always has grinds in it. I check, and yup. Grinds. I ask for a new cup and assure the girl I don’t mind waiting for it to brew, not at all, really!  I still feel like an asshole for returning coffee.

The new cup I get is the first one of the new batch. 

It also had grinds in it.

All day I deal with what seem like increasingly inane issues.  Knowing that my bad attitude is probably a large part of the problem doesn't help at all.

At lunch, I trudge to the library -- sans gloves and hat this time -- to pay the $2.80 in fines we’ve been alerted, via a nasty letter, are about to be sent to collections. I hope the librarian at the branch knows I would never knowingly keep a book out 56 days past its due date. One book was accidentally checked out under Joel's account, and we never got a single notice saying it was overdue. At least the fines are a ridiculously cheap five cents a day, I tell myself.

When I present my card, I am told I also owe $24.00 for returning a book with water damage.  I am sure the book was fine when I returned it over a week ago, and I tell the librarian so.

A Ma’m I R the Supervisor argument ensues. 

I finally concede just because I am tired of arguing and pay my $24.00, plus Joel's $2.80.  I think bitterly that at least I got to keep the damaged book, which I never did get around to reading.  That would almost be a consolation if I hadn’t bought a non-damaged copy of the exact same book this weekend. At the library’s book sale.

At home, just as I'm getting ready to make pizza for dinner, a telemarketer calls.  I get roped into talking to her.

Another telemarketer calls an hour later. 

All night I am plagued by a general feeling of guilt. I shouldn't have fought with the librarian. I should have been nicer to the telemarketers. I should have been more patient. 

Thirty seconds later I'm yelling at the cat to shut up. 

****************

Tuesday dawns and it’s slightly warmer out. I manage to dress appropriately for the weather, the coffee is delicious and grind-free and two people compliment my outfit.

Hello, Tuesday. It’s good to see you.

Comments

[Stephanie]

I just want to give that sonofabitch Monday the bird and be done with it.

[RA]

Even if Mondays weren't blatantly bad, they would still be inherently bad, so any extra misery is just salt in the wound.

[Liz]

Man, I must have like five Mondays a week!

[heidikins]

Ugh, I hate Mondays.

[nancypearlwannabe]

Wow. That is some day. I always feel personally responsible for librarians who are rude, sooo... sorry about that!

[Ashley, the Accidental Olympian]

Oh I know those days... It's amazing how sometimes as you lay there in bed you can catch yourself wondering if the world might actually be out to get you.

Then before you know it it's Tuesday, and suddenly the world is again spinning correctly on its axis. Without even realizing it the feeling that you're being followed by the Charlie Brown dark cloud passes and you move on with life and it's nuances...

Nice post.

[Katie]

Sorry you had a cruddy day and I can totally relate to yelling at the cat. They seem to know when you're irritable and decide to do anything and everything possible to annoy you further.

When I started reading your post and you mentioned it being in the 30's I had a brain fart and assumed that was 30 degrees celcius - then I was wondering why on earth you'd wear a scarf. Sigh.