its an unbelievably dull and slow day at work. its a monday, and tomorrow is a holiday. today OUGHT TO HAVE BEEN a holiday. it should have been mandatory. nothing seems to be moving around here. everything is slugglish and slow, i can almost hear the voices in my head, and in everyones heads around me. slow, morphed, grawwwwllly, dawwddlyy voices, that long to be back home. in bed. its a day for movies and popcorn. for fresh corn. or candy. or chaat. or photography. or purple tassled dreams. of letter-writing. or slowing down and breathing. of undoing the drama. of just doing anything but sitting my unshapely butt in this chair and wondering what the day holds in store for me.
monday morning blues alert.
it hasnt hit me this bad in a long, long time.
3 comments:
cheer up dumms. It'll be the weekend before u know it..
Did you google image search bored ? hahaha
On the Plus side. I ate strawberry icecream for breakfast!
It's not all bad. Monday mornings are highly conducive for contact with sexless, genital-free extra-terrestrials, especially the Reticulans or Grayboys, the ones doing most of the abductions. All you need is a copper antenna, a tub of warm lard and a pair of walnuts jammed up your nostrils. A Reticulan envoy will then appear as a red hologram growing out of your navel. Reticulans aren't individuals, they're a hive. They do fart but it's always a collective emission that leaves a complex fractal imprint. The best crop circles are Reticulan fart-prints, hallelujah. So the next time you feel like trashing Monday mornings, spare a thought for alien flatulence and say: Bubba has taught me well.
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