You know what tomorrow is. That’s right, Monday. I hate Mondays, I won’t lie. But at least I have science to back me up on this. And while, as the article states, an argument can be made that all work days are awful in and of themselves, what virtually everyone remembers as being particularly horrible is…all together now…Monday. I think we should just do away with Mondays — as a work day — altogether. Let the work week start at Wednesday — still end on Friday, mind you. I think that could work. Yeah, let’s do that.
Sunday, Funday. Blech. That’s a lie if I ever heard one. It doesn’t seem to matter how many days there are in a weekend — even a 4-day weekend like we just had — every Sunday there is still this mad dash to get my
shit life together in like 12 hours. I blame Monday.
It’s not my job, really, that annoys me so. I actually love what I do and the idea that I’m making a difference for those who have no voice. But here I am, in the middle of a Thursday afternoon, driven insane by the people I deal with on a daily basis, just wishing for a time jump like they do in the movies — you know, to move the plot along — so I can just get to the weekend already.
Guess the villa in Tuscany is still out for now. Oh well, at least the weekend is here…gotta look at the bright side of things!
Just in case ya’ll were like me, and needed a reminder. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news…
So. I can’t even blame this on midweek burnout. It’s Tuesday, people. TUESDAY.
Well, friends, it’s official. I’m a genius.
According to an article in Curious Mind Magazine, people who share my level of intelligence have a few things in common. We are all slovenly, foul-mouthed night dwellers.
One of the items the article touches upon is that intelligent people can live happily within mounds of chaos. I’ve always had the ability to find any object in the innumerable piles of my own self-made mess – or that of others – if I’ve touched it or seen it at least once. This talent has not only been helpful at home (with two kids who constantly screamed “mooommm, where is my [insert any item whatsoever here]!?”), but at work as well where I was always able to help my employers keep track of their own individual chaos. I assumed this was a subconscious thing I did to remember where the item was or where it was supposed to be, but it turns out that I am, in fact, just intellectually a level above all of you organized people. Hey, don’t roll your eyes at me! It’s in the article, it must be so. Also, my messy desk is a sign of creative genius, so just leave my mold covered coffee mugs alone and let me work in peace. I’m not lazy, I’m smart!
My inability to go to bed before 2:00 a.m. is also a sign that I am heads above all of you, tucked all warm in your little beds by 10:00 p.m. Never mind that 2:00 a.m. is when the best items are on sale at QVC or late-night horror movies come on, it is actually just my genius brain doing genius things at a genius time of the morning. Genius!
Lastly, it would seem my unrepeatable tirades against the entire driving population of my state are also a sign of my extreme intellectual advancements. Contrary to some of those inane studies that show that people who curse frequently are considered less intelligent, it has been scientifically proven that I and all my potty-mouthed kin are in fact superior in intelligence to our more straight-laced peers. I have a gloating comment to make about that, but I can’t write it here. Perhaps if you share my intelligence, you can imagine what it would be.
I’m not one to say “I told you so,” but I always knew that under my sailor’s vocabulary, under-eye bags, and piles of junk, I was a genius. Now, science proves it.
Oh, who am I kidding? I love to say I told you so. I told you so!
Go forth and spread the word to your cursing, messy, night-owl friends. We are the elite ruling class of intellectuals.
We are geniuses!