I don't like Mondays but I hate Tuesdays even more
Trip Start May 27, 2010
97Trip End Aug 31, 2011
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It goes like this:
Monday - you snooze a couple of times when the alarm goes off. You don't want to go to work but think "buggar it, let's get this week started," so you get up and get going. You get to work, have a chat about everyone's weekends, make a cup of tea, and then get down to business. If you're lucky, the day goes quickly. And at the end you say to yourself "see, it wasn't all that bad."
Tuesday - you snooze a couple more times than you did on Monday, somehow always feeling more tired than you did yesterday
Wednesday - After Tuesday suddenly disappears and you've put away the knives for another week, Wednesday pops up out of nowhere and you find yourself saying "wow, it's midweek already" and doing an emotional fist pump. You feel refreshed and in better spirits than you did yesterday. You almost actually want to go to work and because of this, it's not too hard to get out of bed.
Thursday - This is my favourite day.
Friday - Oooooh yeah WOO HOO! You spring out of bed, excited that it's the last working day of the week. You whisper a "suck shit" under your breath, directed at the people who have to get up on Saturday to go to work. You get ready, put on your jeans (on a casual day) and head off, ready to face the day and get this week over with. You get to work and realise that even though you're in casual clothes there's still work to be done. So you knuckle down, and work through lunch if you have to. By 5:30 you're absolutely parched and hanging for a drink, so you rush home, praying all the way that there are no train delays or disruptions, burst through the front door of your home (or the pub) and reach for the first liquid you can get your hands on. And that's when you sit back and think "yep, I made it. You little bloody ripper."
And then there's Saturday. You wake up with a start at 6:50am thinking "ohhhh no my alarm hasn't gone off", but then quickly realise it's the weekend
On Sunday you're thinking WOO HOO again because it's still the weekend. But sadly, Sundays are sometimes on a par with Tuesday. You spend most of the day doing the things you want to do. But you also spend part of the day getting ready for the week ahead, which is a depressing reminder that you're about to board the un-fun rollercoaster for another ride.
So in all of this, it appears that there's only really one day that we're totally happy - Saturday. I think the important thing to note is that as long as you have things to do that break up the monotony of Monday to Friday, you should be right. Moreover, if you have things to look forward to at the weekend then that makes it even more tolerable. It would be sad to think that we would wish away 70% of our working lives. But if the balance comes on the weekends where you can make up for it with the remaining 30%, then you're on the right track. Bring on the weekend I say!
Tube observation: There never seem to be any school kids on the train. Unlike Melbourne where you would battle your way through swarms of school kids with their Justin Beiber haircuts and motioning for them to move their oversized schoolbags, London doesn't seem to have any of this breed on the trains
After work had sucked every last drop of inspiration out of me, it was time to visit the home of icy cider this weekend. I hadn't made the trip to Birmingham in some weeks, so it was good to get all cosy with the brummies on the Virgin train and make the mission up to see Philo. We booked the tickets last week. Old mate asked whether I wanted a window seat or an aisle seat. I said it didn't matter because it was going to be dark when I was travelling anyway and that even if it were a daytime train the view of Birmingham wouldn't make a window seat worthwhile. I was, however, allocated a backward-facing seat which made me feel a bit ill with the speeds those trains get to. Halfway through the journey I felt the urge to visit the toilet, but remembered the last time I was on that train and was walked in on by a stranger because I'd forgotten to lock the door. And so I decided to cross my legs and wait until I got off the train and to a toilet where I could turn the handle to lock the door - more natural than pressing a button
Friday night we went straight to the Lord Clifden and had our icy ciders. Mmmmmmm. These little black ducks don't muck around when it comes to icy cider - I even got changed at work before my train so that I didn't have to waste time at the other end changing. Warhol, Banksy and Marilyn Monroe greeted us at the pub, and I met Phil's mate Dan and his girlfriend Lisa. The icy ciders were too yum and we lost count of how many we had. We estimate that we had about 7 or 8 pints. It was little wonder then that we had no recollection of the dancing poses that appeared on my camera on Saturday morning. It was also little wonder that when Phil drove us out to the country to a cider house the next day and stopped to check the directions on the sat nav, I had to lean out the door to have a chuck. I felt much better by the time the car stopped and I'd had a steak and ale pie when we finally reached the cider house.
The rest of the weekend was fairly quiet which was good
I got the train back to London and found myself crossing the street a couple of times to avoid a drunk old man who was staggering along and singing to himself. I started to get a bit nervous, as I do in London because it's often very dark when I'm walking home (and I'm paranoid!), and when I'd lost sight of the old man I stopped behind a tree and stopped the wheels of my case making noise along the path. Once my eyes had adjusted I realised that old mate was in a bush a couple of doors down from my place having a wee. So I took the opportunity and ran across the road and bolted through the front door. The old dude was still weeing at that point, and I don't think he even noticed me! I suppose the main thing was that I'd noticed him and could avoid him.
I'm excited this week because my bridesmaid dress should arrive in the post from Brooke so that I can try it and have any adjustments made to it in time for the wedding in May. I'm checking my pigeon hole at work every time I make a cup of tea. I drink a lot of tea, so that's a lot of pigeon hole checking!
So begins another week on the rollercoaster. Gemma is coming over for dinner on Tuesday, so that should help me to avoid the Tuesday depression that has plagued me for the last few weeks!