Monday Morning Blues

My morning started out just fine. TJ was up and out of bed with little trouble, happily eating his breakfast cereal and dreaming about Christmas. (Already.)

I managed to be out the door on time, enjoying the fresh and warm morning air. Mondays are always a struggle, typically I'm exhausted from cramming everything possible into a two-day weekend. But spending a weekend in the country visiting my Mom seemed to relax me, and I felt refreshed and ready to tackle the oncoming week and high temperatures that are certain to accompany it.

Even Quinn and Rose on the radio couldn't dampen my spirits, America's troubles be damned I say. (I'm done caring about a country that doesn't care about it's future.) Everything seemed to be sunshine and daisies, considering it's a Monday morning, until I unlock my office door and try to settle in for the day ahead. First I get a visit from possibly the most annoying woman on the planet. Let's just call her "Betty".

"Betty" is a lonely old woman, with no family close by and no real friends. She has a very sick husband in a care center she rarely visits, and a nasty cat who pees everywhere. She alone is immune to the putrid cat odors that abound in her sad little apartment. She watches more QVC than anyone I've ever known. Everything in poor "Betty's" life is serious drama. It's her personal responsibility to march into my office, pretty much daily, and especially on Mondays to tell me a lot of useless information about her neighbors, the town, our country and so on. I wish she would turn off her TV and take a walk once in awhile.

Needless to say, "Betty" came in my office as usual, gripped about everything that I could care less about, (my God- however will she pay her rent if they don't pay Social Security this month?) and really just started to irritate me. Go visit your husband... it took all I had to keep from screaming this at her.

While she was in my office destroying my fairly good mood with each passing minute, my phone rings with and even more annoying resident calling. I'll just call her "Miss Tonya". Now, "Miss Tonya", is the reason some white folks form black stereotypes. I'm talking wig-wearing, ghetto slang using, "I'm entitled to everything because I'm black and I'm poor and it's whitey's fault" mentality. Now "Miss Tonya" didn't have a serious problem this morning, however at the present moment I'm unable to fix a non-working bathroom vent due to situations beyond my control, and all of the sudden it's so unfair. And she has breathing problems. And it's ridiculous. And I should really just go out of my way, ignore my superiors and do as she asks without delay. And naturally, if I don't, then I hate black people. Really.

So with that being said, what started off as an unusually pleasant Monday morning has turned into a depressing, sad, and frustrating start to the week. Which brings me to exactly what I'm thinking at this very moment.

While I like certain aspects of this job, I'm starting to find it very mundane and unfulfilling. I like that I have a job that allows me certain flexibilities and pays well. In reality, it's the kind of job that most would love to have, and for that I am thankful.

But coming into this office in on a daily basis is soul-sucking. I'm surrounded by people who are so needy, so desperate, so stupid, and yet I'm supposed to feel sorry for them? They are the cesspool of society, the shit in the sewers that those that carry this country on our backs are forced to house and feed, and at the same time pity because they've been dealt such and unfortunate hand in life. See what I mean? Any ounce of humanity I once had has long been lost. And as a Christian, I'm sorry to say I don't even feel these people are worthy of my prayers.

Now that I've vented, I'm staring to come out of this rotten mood. I think I'll go shopping during lunch, that seems to help.

So, Happy Monday to you. Hope your week has started out better than mine.