It started when my feet hit the floor this morning at fifteen ’till six. Have I mentioned how much I detest waking up before six am? This morning was no different when it comes to my belief that no human being should be required to be up and at ’em before six o’clock in the morning, but something was just… off.
I couldn’t find my socks that were laying in the floor right beside the bed where I left ’em the night before. Then, I fumbled around ’till I found my pj bottoms on the trunk, at which time I nearly fell flat on my face trying to get my still dead to the world asleep limbs to cooperate with me. After I finally made my way to the bathroom, from there it just got worse. I sounded like a bull in a china shop.
I dropped my toothbrush into the sink. Then my pj’s got caught on the cabinet door, which led me to slam it shut trying to free myself from some unseen force that just would not let me go, no matter how hard I tried. I ended up spraying myself right smack in the face while trying to douse my hair in the shower. Mind you, I wasn’t taking a shower. I did that the night before. I was just trying to wet my hair and somehow confused the location of my hair with the exact spot where my eyeballs just happened to be waiting, wide open, for the icy blast of cold water from the shower head. Of course, I didn’t wait for the water to heat up. That would’ve been the smart thing to do. I was still asleep and didn’t have sense enough to find my socks, let alone wait the extra 23 seconds it takes for the hot water to flow through the pipes.
I’d like to tell you that my day got better after my lovely “shower”, but I can’t. I dropped nearly everything I picked up out in the kitchen while I was preparing mine and Mountain Man’s lunch and getting our coffee ready. I “lost” my shoes just before it was time to head out the door. Wanna take a stab at where I found ’em? That’s right! In the exact same spot they’ve been every morning since I started working a little over four weeks ago.
I wish I could say that after I got to work that my day became sunshine and rainbows to make up for the fiasco of the early morning shenanigans, but… it didn’t. I got to work on time and made it through security ok, but once I actually got in my office, that’s when the real fun of a Monday began for me. My computer was locked and lo and behold to me, I didn’t have the right password. The dang thing was requesting a password that I’d never been given or prompted to create. I was dumbfounded. I typed in every single set of numbers and symbols I had been issued and all the ones I’d made up and not one of ’em unlocked that blasted computer! So, there I sat… at the mercy of a machine… ’till the gal who’s training me showed up and called someone in the IT department to explain this cruel joke to me, the “new girl”. Have I mentioned how bad I hate being the “new girl”? That title means you don’t yet know everything you need to know in order to do your job without aggravating other’s in your office to help you with various tasks multiple times in a day. Aaarrrgggghhhhhhh!
Turns out, I wasn’t the only one having a Monday. The gal that’s training me was having one, too! So there we were, the more experienced trainer, and the “new girl”, both facing little problems and obstacles all day long. We both got frustrated and we both ended up laughing hysterically at the cards we’d been dealt on this lovely Monday, but we made it through. Somehow, we made it.
My Monday finally looked up and things changed for the better once I laid eyes on my Mountain Man at the end of my day. Just the sight of him always brings a smile to my face and a song that only I can hear in my heart. It doesn’t matter how many socks I lose, or how many clothes mishaps lie ahead, or how many near death experiences I have in the shower, or how many more days of being completely locked out of my work computer, or any other crap that a Monday throws at me. As long as I get to go home with Mountain Man at the end of the day, none of that other stuff matters.