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One of our friendly bloggers had the mendacity, yes I mean it, mendacity to say that since he was retired he liked Mondays as the best day of the week.

Nay I say, Nay, that is mendacious and wrong-headed. Monday shall forever remain the worst possible day in the week. To give it up to another poor day would be akin to giving up on the idea that the earth is flat—wait, a minute, I think I’m confused.

You see what Monday does to a person?

If you had not noticed, I’m a morning person. I’m also what’s known as a double front loader. Of course you know what that means. No? Living in some cave or something?

All the best people are double front loaders. It’s true. I swear. Here are the rules for being a double front loader. But I warn you, the requirements are very tough and only the strongest of you can ever hope to attain this high plane of existence. So if you can’t do it, don’t feel bad, you are in the pathetic majority. *SMIRK*

  1. You must get up early in the morning. Every morning. Without fail. Trust me you cannot be a double front loader and lay around until daylight. You will never get out of bed if you say, sleep until 7 or 8 in the morning. You will give up and jellify in bed, requiring to be fed by a tube and watching old re-runs of Mayberry RFD. Get up! I start my day at between 5:30 and 5:45, depending on who wakes who up. Diego is proving to be a good clock with a fine sense of time. His whine and tinkling toenails on the wood laminate would wake the dead.
  2. You must sort out your day immediately into the things you want to do and the things you MUST do. Must do is not peeing and brushing your teeth. Must do are the nagging things that one OUGHT to do and therefore MUST be done in order to maintain a reasonable level of comfort. DFL-people do NOT eat dessert first, and do not put off the laundry to read the next chapter in a great book. The TO-DO list is mandatory doing before anything frivolous, even eating! Eating, reading, play of any kind, are REWARDS to be dangled enticing before the synapses promising a rich thirteen minutes of pure bliss at the end of a long grueling day of SHOULDING/MUSTING.
  3. You must front load your week as well. So the worst of the Should/Must list MUST be done on the first couple of days of the week and as the week progresses, the should/musts get milder and more quickly accomplished, and less awful.
    It all leads to the crescendo of Friday and the glorious weekend!

Still with me?

See this is all very important to one’s state of mind. In other words, if you don’t do this stuff this way, you will flippin’ go out of your expansive grey matter and dissolve into a puddle of disjointed robotic movements that repeat themselves indefinitely with no apparent point.

So.

So?

Well it’s rather obvious isn’t it?

MONDAY cannot be a great day. It cannot be a good day. It cannot be an even day. It’s the day from hell, because you have placed all the worst things you must do on its shoulders and guess what? It’s pretty much gotta be done by noon. Or close to it.

My Monday so far has consisted of walking the dog 2.3 miles through the cold desert air, whereupon he pulled me forward as if I were a sled  and he were a Malamute traversing the frozen tundra. That is, he did so, until he had to stop to smell in detail that amazing bush, and that amazing pile of dog/coyote poo, nose that bug, leap in ecstasy at a trail of horse poo trailing down the middle of the lane, or stop and stare down the pit bulls who snarl menacingly on the OTHER side of a fence that looks none too sturdy while he prances and sends dog signal “I’m out here and you’re in there, and I am walking where I want to” all sung to a doggie-singsong gurgling growl.

This is followed by getting home, and immediately letting him out the backdoor where he can leave his poo, because he realizes that I enjoy picking it up twice a week. So he leaves lots and because you know, it’s all about keeping our “natural places pristine!”

This is followed by getting out my newly-made-for-me cleaning cart where I can pack all my brooms, dusters, clothes, cleaners of various kinds, hand vac–all with casters to push it and a handle to guide it. Now I don’t just get to push that baby around, I get to use the stuff on it to actually CLEAN things. And I get to do it with a smile on my face because I am so lucky as to have a hubbster that would make me one of these contraptions to make my cleaning experience top of the line.

Following all this stuff, and hours later, I’m ready to clean up the poo, only to discover that there is a hole in my plastic bag, and my fingers have touched some still-fresh poo, as opposed to my more favored type, the hard-dried poo. Diego of course supervises this event, all with appropriate commentary about the quality, size and location of each piece.

Then I cleaned out the wastebaskets, the one’s at least that Diego hasn’t “cleaned” out first, showing me his work all over the library rug. He tears paper brilliantly before you ask.

I still have a few more minutes before I get to get started making that gourmet meal. I’m writing this. A Should/Like–sorta of shouldy, but also sorta likey.

What is the Contrarian doing all this time? Oh, reading the paper, checking out the Internet, and playing with his new toys–routers and saws and bits and shop vacs and sanders and crap like that.  He is not a DFL. Makes me bloody pissy.

I suppose lots of interesting political things are happening. But frankly, I don’t have time. It’s Monday.

 

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