I truly wish I was one of those chipper, optimistic, bubbly people who bound out of bed on Monday morning excited to embrace the week's challenges. Instead, I am the person that greets them at work, growling over a cup of coffee while calculating the hours, minutes, and seconds until the work week is over.
I'm not sure why I am this way. My job isn't horrible. I am my own boss, and I generally like the work I do. Don't get me wrong, there isn't a day that passes where I don't want to smash my mouse against the wall or shred the phone cord to threads. I have only myself to blame for that one - it wasn't exactly a well guarded secret that the legal profession was stressful and involved conflict.
I think the problem is that I would rather be writing. I feel anxious all day until I can get home and write. I live for the long weekends when I get that precious weekday to include in my writing routine. This should have been one of those weeks except, being the dunderhead that I am, I forgot about Good Friday when scheduling a meeting OUT OF TOWN for Friday. I'd thought I was being sneaky - schedule the out of town meeting in hopes of it ending early so that I could scoot straight home. Yep, I just outsmarted myself out of a long weekend. Way to go genius.
So, I have a case of the Mondays. I look ahead at the long week that will end with a two hour drive to Auburn for a not so fun meeting that will likely end with a lot of screaming to be followed by a two hour drive back. I need to make sure Memorial Day is circled on my calendar so I don't do this to myself again.