Maybe Friday was just mad because I refused, up until this point, to blame my woes on the periodic holiday of misfortune. I never would; I think it's silly. Just another one of those office smalltalk seeds. This means that I also do not believe in cases of the Mondays, nor do I believe that there is a definite partisan rift between "Working Hard" and "Hardly Working." I do believe that people are crazier during the full moon, however, but that's just because I've worked Roadside Assistance. (And just to round out this episode of Belief System Assertion, I do not believe that anybody actively heeds the old "Drive safely, school's back in session!" dictum. Nobody ever says "Oh yeah, end of August, school's back in session, guess I won't drive like a total jackass for the next nine months." Much like nobody's ever said "Hey, Nancy Reagan was on TV and told me to just say no to drugs, so good-bye, heroin!")
On the plus side, I discovered a copy of Katharine Hepburn singing the Kingston Trio's "Merry Minuet" so the day wasn't a total loss. I am sure, however, that I would've been able to find this song just as well on a good night's sleep.
But sleep? Don't talk to me about sleep. Look at them! Lousy stinkin cats, curled up peacefully sleeping on MY BED! I'm gonna go rouse them from their slumbers, I'm so jealous and bitter, because if I ain't sleepin, ain't nobody sleepin. But bitter is at war with don't want to be mean, so I'll go drop some f-o-o-d in their b-o-w-l so that even though they're awake, they get something nice. Can't even be properly arbitrarily vindictive tonight, I'm afraid.
There's a nice pink sunrise outside. Wonder what omens that brings.