Monday Mornings

Monday morning. I'm up early, Bruno and I.

I've been re-writing my journals – yes, so they can be as well written as they can be for no one to read them – and I have been rewriting the period 10 years ago when I worked for the awful law firm – I'll give you a hint, it has a black logo as black as its work culture – and it has been bringing back bad memories, but you know, someone has to do it.

The bad memories are affecting me today, this morning when I am supposed to be signing into my current job, and I am feeling like I just don't want to. I just want to stay on the couch with Bruno cuddled up to my left thigh. (His stomach is gurgling, but that is just by the by)

Oh, groan, back to the salt mines – even if it is just my dining room table - Monday mornings come around so quickly, now don't they.

Yeah, sure, I only work three days – I'd work 5 days if Sam had his way. Yeah, sure, I am luckier than most. (Luck is such a relative term, don't you think?) Yeah, sure working from home is a breeze.

And my job is really easy. Or is it that I am good at it? Or is it because I have I been doing it for a long time? I have been doing it for a long time... I don't want to do it anymore.

Oh, it is probably just the weather, or the time of year, or the season, or any number of things.

I have a zoom team meeting this afternoon where I no longer turn my camera on so they can't see me dying of boredom. I'd just be a cadaver with frown if I turned my camera on.

Oh, Jesus fuck me please, Monday mornings?

I'd rather spend the day writing and learning the piano, they seem like much more worthy pursuits.