Monday’s a B


Do you ever have the feeling that no matter how hard you try, even if you fake it, Mondays always have their ways to punch you straight to the face and leave you bleeding and wondering whatever it is you have done wrong or wrongly?

Today is Monday, and in the first three hours that I have decided to face this dreadful day, I have had my fair share of misfortunes.

One: I found out that my wedding ring has been missing for two weeks now.

Two: I have to wear my old pair of glasses today because my eyes have been strained by years of abuse of the power of my eye sight towards loads of research tasks to read and grade (and perhaps by Conjunctivitis, too).

Three: I burned my index finger after spilling my first cup of instant coffee all over it.

I am really trying my best here. But why does Monday have to be a bitch?

But as they say, it is a sign of maturity when you see the good in gruesome situations.

I  have survived the first three hours of my Monday, the witching hours so to speak. Then, I started seeing the good side of the ugly situations: One, I found my wedding ring- I happen to be looking for it in the wrong places and I promised myself never to take it off again; Two, half a dozen people (I am wishing were sincere) told me I look good today (with my glasses perhaps); and Three, well of course, coffee is always perfect even if it burns some parts of your body out of carelessness.

I will never be fond of Mondays. Mondays will never be fond of me. But we shall co-exist, because we are left without choices here but to deal with each other.


Being Caffeinated



The first day of September kisses me with a warning I have been warned about for so long a time: to never talk while my mouth is not filtered by caffeine yet, especially on a Monday morning.

I just hope I have enough cups of coffee to survive this day.

Make Up Transformations

Today is the first day of September. Today I realized I have not been wearing what I am supposed to be wearing. Today I realized I have been flat, bland and emotionless for the past months. For the past months I have been hiding behind smiles and sarcasms without regard for how beaming or sour I appear to people I face. For the past months it might not have mattered to me, but it might have to those who look up to me and those who don’t and are dying to have my face off theirs.

For the past months I wore nothing but my ordinary face, but today I decided to have my make-up on.

This would be the ultimate test, the great action research, the insightful experiment: will a touch of crimson on my lips make me sound more interesting? will a stroke of eyeliner make me look more sincere? will a dash of powder make me glow with optimism? will make-up transform anything in me?

I could only guess.

Everything I Need to Know About Procrastination (and Mondays) I Learn From Garfield

With my horrific Monday hang-over and an interesting prompt on procrastination that I is underway, I think I have found my ideal mascot. Garfield is the epitome of furrball greatness with whom I have felt I am understood for what I feel about Mondays and procrastination and everything else he sees things (diet, food, exercise, to name a few more). It is good to know there is one cat who knows exactly how I feel in this kaleidoscopic complexity called life.

80635-71263 1266848614548_f da92bd896910de6ad95463374103e529 garfield garfield_monday1 garfield_mornings garfield_waste_my_time garfield-ill-stop-procrastinating-tomorrow-2011-wall-calendar-sellers-publishing-hardcover-cover-art garfield-monday garfield-mondays_suck tumblr_ml2ix0hu4q1s3vakfo1_500 tumblr_mq1qdo9w0c1rtut36o1_1280 

(photo credits to google search)

The Best Thing About Mondays (Excuse my Sarcasm)

I am not a fan of Mondays. Mondays never like me back either.

In as much as I want to make the first the day of the week (although technically Sunday is) a good start, I always fall short of the energy to wake up to it at the right side of the bed. The thing is, I love mornings, but waking up to mornings I love is a struggle I put up with every single day-double the trouble waking up on a Monday.

Why are Mondays not for me?

1. Monday comes the day after a supposed to be Me-Time Day but never is. Sunday is the only time I can sleep without an alarm clock set to remind me that I have to get moving because a very busy day is ahead of me. However, with kids wanting to spend time with me and a warm cup of coffee to bribe me into it, how could I oversleep as planned? I can also be lucky if there are no family gatherings or school functions set on Sundays, but most often than not, there are, so I end up being all over town rather than reclining at the comfort of my sofa or bed, having the time of my life wandering aimlessly to some dreamland that I never visit. Then comes Monday to absorb my battered soul, and you can finish the statement what happens next.

2. Monday summarizes the week’s to-do list. No week is ever light for me. I always have something to start, catch up with or finish. I set the standard for horror on a Monday as I list down the things I have to do but I never do, or at least start doing but never sustain accomplishing. Since I am too soaked in my own miserable weekend, I create a bad mentality that makes Mondays horrifying when they are not supposed to be. Most often than not, I never get to accomplish my to-do list because I end up having several to-do lists apart from the original one because of my mindless approach to goals. I am a pro in procrastinating. Even if there is coffee to fuel the day, I still end up putting off current and important matters of the week to work on matters that are not important until next week or so. Still it can’t be considered waste of time and effort though, because I do work on things, but I am having trouble meeting the urgent. Monday is the start of a week of things to do, but I seem not to have enough days of the week to do them. Please do understand why I greet Hell-o Monday then.

3. Monday hates me. I reach out to Mondays with a clear mind. light heart and sweet smile all the time. Believe me, I really do. But each time I try to be nice, the thought of Mondays to be demanding makes me a lunatic. I have tried forgetting Mondays ever existed, skipping Mondays, being useless on a Monday, but none of which worked. I still could not hide from the monster that is Monday and I end up with a bad hair day to start with and a bad day in totality. Mondays give me untoward accidents, sudden problems, unforeseen troubles, countless worries—I can’t even imagine how many pranks of life can happen to me in one day. Although I find consolation on a cup of warm latte, still coffee turns bitter when I am reminded that I have no power over my Mondays.


The best thing about Mondays though, they only come once a week, and I have the other days of the week to redeem myself from the mud of jokes Monday dips me into and to prepare myself for more horrifying adventures Monday is going to challenge me by.