Alright
Monday, here we go again. I have tried to be nice and have tried extremely hard
not to use swear words on you at all, but you still don’t seem to get it. You
suck. A lot. Yeah, I went there.
Here’s
a tip for you, Monday: If I happen to be running late to school, which doesn’t
occur very often, don’t close the entire freaking road (the one I need to use)
in order to work on one little sewer. By conveniently placing this road block
less than half a mile from school, I walked into class late after being forced
to take the detour that the ignorant drivers in front of me clearly couldn’t
figure out.
Here’s
another one for you, Monday: While I was opening my yogurt this morning I expected
the lid to come off cleanly- just as it had the last two days I’d eaten yogurt.
But no. You just HAD to make sure the lid shot some of that creamy vanilla
deliciousness onto my nice black shirt. Thank you for that, I really owe you
one.
Oh,
and when a really nice friend of mine buys me food, try not to dump the
contents down my shirt. It’s really embarrassing…and sticky.
Though
you weren’t very considerate with my food today, you did manage to start Speech
season off with a boom. I greatly appreciated you not humiliating me in front
of all the people I was trying to impress. It was a tad bit hot in the room
though- you probably could have turned the temperature down a little…but
whatever. It was probably just me smokin’ up the room. I’m just too damn sexy
for that room’s hotness capacity. Yeah, that had to be it. I think you owe me
for that one, Monday. You are so welcome.
Oh
Monday. You know, try as I might, I can never seem to please you. No matter
what I do, you just can’t seem to escape twisting my day into exactly what it
doesn’t need to be. I guess I owe you for giving me a topic to blog about once
a week…but then again I’m sure my posts could be just as entertaining without
all the negative side effects you create throughout my day. Besides, what joy
do you really get from watching me struggle throughout the day? From my perspective,
all the horrible obsticles you throw at me are irritating and unnecessary. I
really don’t need to spend extra time on wiping off the yogurt YOU spilled on
my shirt, or taking the detour YOU made me take, or sweating in a really hot
room in which YOU didn’t turn on the air conditioning. Keep this in mind,
Monday, when I attempt for the third time to donate blood. Please let it work
this time, Monday. If you can only do one thing right, make it this. Please.
(486 words)
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