I hate Monday.
I hate Monday because it’s not the start of the week, there is no start to the week, time is not segregated into small blocks and life isn’t either.
Monday the control mechanism for ‘the machine’. Give people the weekend to have fun then Monday, well, they go back to work, every day, until Saturday comes around again.
I don’t believe in it; I don’t respect it. It’s not how I live my life, that said.
It gets to me.
It’s Monday morning; I just got a coffee, my girlfriend was grumpy with me this morning because I checked my emails before I kissed her good morning. Fair enough, her annoyance is reasonable, I would have done the same thing.
I have this senseless, emotionless, exhaustion that’s clouding my every thought. I want so much; I can visualise so much that I want to achieve and yet still, I have no idea how to get there.
What’s dumb is that I don’t read any blogs, yet here I am writing one.
I don’t want to work something out right now; it’s Monday, I hate Monday.
Monday is the new Sunday, today I say fuck the system, I will treat today like a Sunday.