Monday morning, you bitch. Why aren't I as a wide-eyed and alert and imaginative as I was last night at 11:30, 12:30, 1:30 and briefly at 2:15 a.m.? But I'm up and at em.
For all of you who are responsible for getting another body out the door, I applaud you. I also want to remind you that you also have those little ones to yell at. Let me clarify. The pants I wanted to wear today really needed to be hemmed. I decided this after I was fully dressed. Then in the midst of changing pants, I sneezed and blew snot all over my shirt. Once I redressed myself, I realized that a tiny jar of honey that was given to me for Christmas leaked into my bag. Just imagine that mess.
And who was there for me to yell at? ME.
Then imagine me getting to my desk and sneezing again. All over the second pair of pants. The good news is that has to be the last of the snot. Has to be. There's no way there is more.
As an uncle, I'm always thinking of what I should for the Murray Five and their future. It's clear to me now. I need to get them vaccinated. Their little germs are ruthless. I figure it's good for them, and better for me.