Sometimes

“And when that sun goes down It gets brighter in my heart somehow I don’t know why this is But it’s what I want to know ” The Noisettes
 
 Have you noticed no one ever says anything good about Mondays? You could have Monday off and have a three day weekend every weekend and I bet you people would STILL hate Monday. Not sure if Monday’s get a bad rap or they really do suck across the globe, but this Monday started off the pits!
 
Even though I cried myself to sleep on Sunday, I had a pretty good weekend overall. I went to breakfast and I didn’t have to pay on Saturday… that’s always nice, especially when you’re on a budget. It wouldn’t be so bad if every time I pulled out my debit card I wasn’t making real life decisions about whether or not I would eat this week… I mean I can handle certain things, but there are only so many meals I can miss.
 
Thankfully my breakfast companion also felt the need to give me gas (pity) money. Of course I politely, defiantly refused until the joke became serious (you can’t throw money on the ground in front of the metro and then hobble away). Then I just had to take it. But now I have this mental tally in my head, trying to figure out from which upcoming paycheck I can weasel the money and pay back my debts. Truthfully, that money came in handy! I was able to be on my grown woman grind and do all of those things I’ve put off all week… CHORES! It feels good to wash 3 loads of laundry, change your bed sheets, sweep/mop the kitchen and bathroom floors, vacuum, dust, and cursedly clean the bathroom *shudders*. After I finished it all looked so beautiful, pine-sol clean! I won this battle 550 square feet! *fist shake*.
 
I was able to hang out with MW3 Saturday night. That was awesome. Maybe it’s the natural ebb and flow of a friendship, but the beginning seemed… forced? Like it was necessary to recapture the essence of years past within the brief moments we had together. And I think it was the secrets that led to a weighted silence… realizing we both have hidden things from each other, when we both thought we knew everything. I won’t say it was a hash out session, that entails a dramatic element that never appeared, but it did bring us back to neutral. It reminded me how much I miss her, how I value her peace in my life, how easy it is to be vulnerable and emotional in her presence. I have that safety net with such few people, and I thought for a while that our net had a few irreparable holes; in truth the trellis needs replacement from time to time. During those periods there are gaping breaches where moments in the friendship are lost or tested; but the emotional web is reinforced upon replacement in preparation for the new accidents that require its support.
 
We saw Horrible Bosses together, good movie, though not as funny as Bridesmaids. Funnier than the movie was the geyser of Black Cherry Sparkling Water that attacked this old clear-cousin couple in front of us (who knew there would be so much carbonation??). And they were HEATED.  Through the rush of expletives from them and the quiet snickering from me, the movie started and the theater welcomed the laughter. It’s really important to have an understanding and nonchalant movie companion when seeing a comedy with me. At best I talk through the movie (the slow parts), a happy-medium is me talking to the screen, but worst case scenario is the snort-filled laughter that echoes off the darkened walls. I far surpass the loud decimal point, and reach octaves humans wish they were incapable of hearing. But I have a good time. I’ve only been asked to leave once… which I adamantly refused with hushed promises of continual quiet. Curse you MIB2 for being so funny!
 
Of course with MW3 and me, there are always heart-to-hearts late at night, with in-depth analysis of past practice and present circumstances. In truth, she pointedly tells me to get my life together, and I appreciate the honesty.
 
Even though I went to bed about 3am, I still woke up about 8am ready to go. So I got ready, dressed to impress so to speak, and watched 4 or so episodes of Say Yes to the Dress as I waited for the clock to strike 10:20 so I could pick up MW3 for church. As much as I appreciated Zion’s sermon, the anticipation of MW3 meeting Goldfish#2 kept me panting when I should have been patient. MW3’s opinions carry great weight, and her approval means a lot. As expected from her easy-going demeanor, everything went smoothly and I think we all had a lot of fun. SN: do you ever notice that when you have a friend that you think is prettier than you, you step up your game to shine just a little brighter and hopefully be on par? I went to bed so late because I needed my hair not to look like a meshy mess of honey brown strands… I still think she is prettier, but I was able to walk with more confidence on Sunday.
 
Fast forward to Monday morning, I wake up to blaring alarm clocks and Drake/ Lil Wayne singing from my iPhone (a sign?). I roll over and over, the sluggard in her bed; hoping for the surprise that it’s actually night and a maiden’s blush bepaints my cheek… oh wait that’s Shakespeare not JustLissen. My present for being awake on Monday morning? The in rush of a communist attack on my body. You would think that I would get some kind of reprieve, not to have to battle this raging fascist movement twice in one month, but no, no such luck for me. Even worse, that changes the dynamic of what I can wear to work and since I had to interview for my job this morning, I was scrambling to find something that was professionally decent and distinguished while being comfortable enough to last the day. My hint? Accessories. I had a jacket, nice scarf, two pretty rings, nice earrings, and comfortable but tall shoes. That doesn’t mean my hair wanted to cooperate. No, of course not, that would be too easy. I came in looking like frazzled loaves of bread, in some places smashed in from being suffocated by the heat, other places overly rotund from too much yeast. It’s not a good look no matter how you spin it.
 
And though it took me an extra ½ hour to get to work because I had to return to the house 4 times for the million things I forgot upon my leisurely departure; I arrived before 9am. Yes, yes, I did need to be at work by 8am, but *Kanye shrug* it is what it is. I at least made it. And with enough time to pull out my Grown Woman Survival Kit to do repairs on my sweat stained appearance and apply much needed make up to mask the huge zonking zit on my forehead. First step, the hair: I used the two remaining bobby pins in my kit to turn the loaves into bunny ears (best I could do). Next I applied make up all over: eyes representing Erykah’s bag lady, a zit with its own zoning code, and lips with enough cracks to be mistaken for the Grand Canyon. Refreshed the deodorant, added some scent, and switched from flats to heels. I looked presentable, if not perfect.
 
And wouldn’t you know that 3 of my ten nails decide to chip and break this morning? That’s why I always carry nail clippers and a nail file. I wish I could’ve painted my nails, but sometimes you have to make due. And I got to work until I was called. Showed up early for the internal interview, came prepared with questions, knew what I had to bargain, and carried an air of humble importance. Only to be sitting in the conference room for 5 minutes staring at the art work I can’t interpret. Wouldn’t you know, the interview was switched from the conference room to the office? HAHAHA jokes on me I guess…
 
After that little confusion, the interview was underway. And I just didn’t care. I have my plan A,B,C,D (more on this later) and it is what it is. (< — new slogan)
 
After the interview, where I unspokenly got the approval to stay in my job, I needed chocolate. If chocolate could speak he would tell you that he can’t love you. That his purpose is to provide temporary pleasure as milky smoothness eases down your throat and plummets to your empty stomach. You can give it your heart, and it will give you diabetes. He steals the heart beating from your chest. You call the cops, but he’s the kind of thief you can’t arrest. Ok sue me, I flinted those last two lines from Lauryn Hill in the Fugees Manifesto, but it fit. Fit my idea of chocolate, my need for chocolate, the reason why I cry most night… But that will be another post for another time. It’s funny how the actual need for a chocolate bar to ease your cramps leads you on a tangent for the chocolate you can’t taste…

Last time I checked, it was still Monday. I am still at work, I still gained 5 pounds, I still have a massive to-do list that I haven’t started. Can it be Friday again?

Readers: How do you feel about Monday? Women, what’s in your GWS kit? Have you seen Horrible Bosses? Reviews? The floors open, may’ne!

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1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. QuietGirl
    Aug 11, 2011 @ 13:07:58

    Oh I love this post! I like Mondays. I feel like it’s a new beginning every week. But if I’m not prepared Mondays can of course be the worse and offset my whole week. I don’t have a GWS but this reminds me I need to get one :). Horrible Bosses was hilarious and exactly what I expected from Charlie Day. Colin Farrell is also surprisingly funny. Congrats on the interview!

    p.s Communism is a blower.

    Reply

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