From a 5-minute writing prompt in my college English class about why we hated Mondays. Written September 22nd, 2008. I think a Sunday is as good as any other to get this one posted. I don’t distaste Mondays nearly as much any more, but this one was a particularly frustrating one. I was a pretty angry person in general at this time as well.
Why Do I Hate Mondays?
Because I have a case of the Mondays.
My anti-Christ alarm clock makes my hungover head bleed!
I smash it over and over to shut the fuck up but eventually am forced to stumble out of bed,
to fulfill my Dumbday obligations.
I shuffle out of my boiling-hot dorm room to take a shower,
I forgot the friggin’ key!
Now I have to trudge downstairs in my boxers, shampoo, towel, with freakin’ luffa in hand to grab a spare.
When I finally get into the bathroom,
the same asshole has left his stuff everywhere again!
Sucks to be him, I’m pissed so his shit gets thrown,
maybe it broke, I don’t care.
When I finally get out of the shower refreshed and calm…
I realize I’ve smoked all my green the nights before.
No wake and bake?
Fuck Mondays!
Finally have everything ready, headed to class on the moped,
and the damn thing breaks down half-way.
Seriously! What kind of bad karma could I have attracted for this day to go ANY better!
I still remember scribbling this down furiously in my class. I couldn’t wait to boisterously recite it. It made me feel much better, as did my friends later that day. My friend, Gavin, got to hear this in person the day of.
Thank you for reading.
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