Monday, Monday

Ah Monday, the most despised day of the working-class week. It goes without saying that I had to force myself out of bed this morning and stumble groggy-eyed to the train. I never feel alone though, surrounded by 200 other barely cognisant folks, eyelids half open, clinging to their coffee like a lifeline. And so I stand on the train as it clunks along toward the center of Manhattan, ever so slowly approaching the dreaded office buildings. It's actually rather bizarre how the trains creep along in the morning and whiz home after 5pm, guess conductors have a hard time getting started too.

Monday, yes the day of the week where I make all sorts of promises I fully intend to keep (for at least a day or so). I vow to go to the gym every day, which I will absolutely intend to do until about 6 o'clock when I'm too exhausted to mount a treadmill. I vow to eat small, low-calorie meals, which lasts until lunch time if my boss is buying; you know I never turn down a free meal - skinny jeans or no skinny jeans. I vow to be productive in the workplace, which as you see, lasted until I logged on to the Internet. Yes, Monday morning commutes, like the last guy you dated, are so full of promises that will never be kept. But really, who cares as long as it's a fun ride...in either case I suppose;-)