The Chaos of Mondays
The morning was rushed, as usual. Not a moment to spare, important pieces of the day in disarray, left behind or hidden in the debris at the bottom of a purse or worse, mixed in with the junkyard that is our mobile office of a truck. It’s Monday.
I climb aboard my bus for the 45minute ride to work and search for my favorite seat, the one all the way to the back, cornered by the inboard lavatory so there is not a seat across the aisle. My favorite seat is solitary. I want to stew in my own “I Hate Monday!” Juices. But then I look out the window and see the pink-orange sunrise dancing on the low cottonball clouds. I often need to be reminded that it’s a beautiful world.