Get out of bed.
(I know, me too, but dammit I’m not writing another one on job hunting after you’ve been fired, so just go with me on this one.)
Have what you want for breakfast.
(It’s Monday morning…! Do I really need to explain? Just go for it; Monday mornings aren’t the ideal life crisis in which to maintain slavish obedience to the calorie count.)
Have it naked.
(Unless that grosses you out. It does me, but my kitchen has this shiny stainless steel thing going in spades, and I’m likely to get a glimpse mid ice cream. That would just ruin the rest of the day for me.)
Stand in the kitchen window.
(It’s Monday morning! The neighbors deserve what they get if they’re watching your windows first thing in the week. Personally, if mine were, I’d be likely to wear… well, I’d show them!)
(I don’t care what anyone says; no one should have to face a Monday morning without being over-caffeinated!)
Fantasize as you shower.
(‘s’up to you. Telling your boss off. Going in naked. Using a death ray on people who text and drive. Scaring people who text and drive by driving in naked. It’s fantasy after all. Splurge.)
Dress the way you want.
(Frankly, your boss doesn’t like Monday morning any better than you do. Possibly she had a hell of an argument with her live-in lover, so your Girl Scout outfit might just be the thing to make her smile… and give you that raise or promotion. Okay, so you’re still fantasizing. Why not?)
Drive to work like a bat out of hell.
(It’s Monday morning. Cops are either getting coffee at Dunkin’ freaking Donuts or an Egg McHeart-Attack with Sausage. Now’s your chance to hone your motoring skills.)
Blow up the paper bag on the elevator, and pop it as you enter the office.
(It’s Monday freaking morning. Being arrested is better than trying to work through another Monday!)
It’s Poetics at dVerse Poets Pub, and the challenge is to write a poem to save someone’s life. Among the many options offered, I chose Monday mornings — and if I can save anyone from that kind of sorrow… well, my work is done.