Blehday

Now, I know Monday are supposed to be pretty shitty in general, but I've even changed my work shifts according to my Monday moods. I used to work from 1:15pm until 8pm on Mondays, but I've changed it so that I finish at 17:30 and rather work late on Thursdays.That's how much I hate Mondays. If I could meet those ancient fools who named the day, I give them an eggflip and a backhand slap in the face. I spit on their shortsighted graves and curse their nether regions. A Monday by any other name would...be much bloody better. Something cute and fluffy, like "Mylittleponyday", or something. Anything. Even better, just omit it all together and jump straight from Sunday to Tuesday. A short break down for the above sentiment - it may be an example of a specific Monday, but the horrors which occur are quite normal to general Mondayness.

It starts, the day that shall not be named (eerie background movie a la Twin Peaks). Sleep in 'till nine, not a bad start. A cup of Trung Nguyen's Gourmet Blend - an even better start. Twenty pages of Orwell's 1984, well this is when I start thinking, maybe this will be the day the curse is broken. Maybe, *shudder*, just maybe it'll be...okay. Bleh.

On the drive to work, in the wrong direction up Dien Bien Phu, I drive past this guy urinating off the bridge into the Nhieu Loc Canal. This, in itself is quite normal, and I shout "Sies, jou vark!" (translation: "Gross, you pig"), which is my standard reply in Saigon to any public siffness I see like loogie hocking, sidewalk pooing and puking, and of course bridge-peeing. However, this guy had some "rebound" going as he was peeing on the bridge-railing too, causing some to deflect and hit my girlfriend and I as we scootered past. *insert disgusted word of choice here*.

To make it worse, we had to stop at the dentist, not for a check-up, but just to make an appointment. Just walking into the establishment of dental horrors, sets my teeth on edge. Dental offices and haunted places of similar ilk should be forced to be closed on Mondays. Think drilling sounds in the background, the sickly clean smell of hygiene, that rhythmic squaking of footsteps down the linolium corridors and the perfect, white flashed smile of the harbringers of oral apprehension, on a Monday? No thanks.

After this, everything went, well, as fine as it can go on a Monday after having been used as an urinary splattering board-in-transit. Until it was time to go home. When, suprise suprise, it had just started raining. Nice. I'd left my helmet on my bike because it's the bloody dry season and there wasn't a cloud in the sky when I arrived at work. It was bloody 36 degrees! With a sponge on my head and water dripping down my back, I just got home, splattered with mud and pissed off (and on). Needless to say, there wasn't any beer in the fridge to take the edge off. What did I expect.

Bleh.

Come tomorrow. Please, come fast.