Klowns in my Koffee

Daily Kup (My Life falling through the grid)
Monday is a pivotal day. Back in the Porkus days, Sunday afternoons deteriorated into malaise and depression that became a migraine-inducing panic by Sunday evening. It's no wonder that the majority of heart attacks occur on Monday morning. At least one guy on a gurney is thinking, "Well, at least I don't have to go to work right now."

I tend to blame a lot of insights on age but I know younger people who see the problem without the benefit of ever seeing a Burma Shave sign. Who wants to wish away their lives on Monday through Friday so that they can do something they actually like on the weekends ... if they aren't too exhausted to do so? Lather, rinse, repeat, die.

For the moment, neither Sunday nights nor Monday mornings are now cause for depression. In reality, Monday mornings are refreshing since I plan the week's goals and schedule. Such a small step to define the value of one's time and so rewarding.

This reminds me of a quote from the sitcom Malcolm in the Middle where Hal, the father, is describing his job:

Hal: You know those nature shows where a wasp paralyzes a caterpillar, then
injects it full of larvae? It stays alive for weeks, completely aware, feeling
every little bite as the larvae devour it from the inside. I sat in a cubicle
every day envying that caterpillar, 'cause at least he got to be on TV.

Narrow Demographic?
It's so Monday. Here's a tribute to that infamous day of the week from my favorite Canadian twin teenage lesbian indie folk rock duo, Tegan & Sara.