Hey Monday, I Got This

Truth: Monday's suck. I honestly, and quite naively, thought I had today (Monday) by the balls. Last night (Sunday) I put on my A game. I made the kids' lunches (which included fruit, just saying), prepped my coffee pot, filled a bowl with quick oats for the morning and took out my Pilates clothes for the 6 a.m. class. I checked the forecast one last time. Early morning snow to rain by the morning commute. No snow pants needed for school this Monday! At 10:30 p.m. I nestled my weary body into the cool flannel sheets and launched into dream land. Around 3:30 a.m. I heard a loud, thunderous roar and thought it must be a rain storm. Then I heard the dreaded scrapping sound of tow trucks along my street and thought the unthinkable. Snow. I got up and peered through my dusty venetian shades and saw the offending powder form a billowy blanket over my lawn. As a New Englander, I should be immune to snow and wintry mixes. Hell, I trained for four Boston marathons in far worse conditions. Yet there's something inherently soul crushing about wet snow on a Monday morning when you have to get the kids on their way to school, figure out if your commute to work will suck (like two hours on the Mass Pike suck) and find the black work pants with permanent grayish weather stains near the hem because you don't want to ruin another pair of good Banana Republic slacks. As my brain churned into morning prep mode, I heard a door slowly creak followed by soft footsteps looming closer. My daughter came to me and said she was scared and could not sleep. Now doubly caught off guard, I kindly told her to go back to bed. She obliged only to call out to me a few seconds later that she wanted me to sleep with her. After a few more foggy minutes my husband rose to the occasion and headed to her room. I quickly performed some sketchy math to calculate how many hours (minutes) remained before my 5:15 a.m. alarm. Despite the early morning hiccups, I had this Monday thing.

My Pilates class was packed and it felt great to start the week on a strong note. The morning continued evolve in a positive way. My son was up and dressed when I got back from Pilates. I fired up my oats and started the coffee. Things were in motion. The snow stopped and turned to rain. I put the pre-made lunches in the kids' backpacks then got dressed. I was out the door by 7:45. This weather had nothing on me. Despite the pokey driver in front of me on the way to the bus stop, I managed to catch the express bus without a second to spare and made it to the office in record time by 8:30. At work, I decided I needed a little extra perk-me-up and a reward for the herculean morning effort. So I grabbed a coffee from the lobby cafe. As I headed to the elevator banks, my foot slipped on a wet patch on the marble floor and hot coffee splashed on my face and all over my new white  sweater. Stunned, I regained my balance and headed back up to the office. What just happened? Why didn't anyone offer to help me or ask if I was OK? Were people too busy complaining about the weather? Well, I knew what I had to to. I headed to the ladies room to check out the brown stains on my clothes. Then I cried.  Alone in the bathroom on this Monday with a half, un-drunken Au Bon Pain coffee and coffee stained clothes I realized that after all that, the snow really didn't get me after all.

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