For my $, the 3 great truth-sayers of the 20th C:
- Prince
- Papa John Philips
- Karen Carpenter
Match the Monday-bemoaning lyrics to the philosopher who penned them.
a) Rainy days and Mondays always get me down. Hanging around, nothing to do but frown.
b) Just another manic Monday, wish it were Sunday, cause that’s my fun day, my I don’t have to run day…
c) Monday, Monday, can’t trust that day. Every other day of the week is fine, but whenever Monday comes you can find me crying all of the time
Of course none of these geniuses had to get recalcitrant kids up and dressed and fed and off to school on time and get themselves into little office-appropriate get-ups with the light out in the closet while their husband (goddamn him to hell and back) was out of town.
A new coping strategy this a.m. – chanting patience patience patience under my breath – just led me to being anxious anxious anxious, patience times negative 3.
Tomorrow will try something different, muttering shutthefuckup shutthefuckup shutthefuckup under my breath, alternating with putyoursockson putyoursockson, PUT YOUR DAMN SOCKS ON.
And Wednesday: Homer Simpson-style choking and threats of military school.
Oh, one more thing. Do my eyebrows make me look fat?
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