Blue Monday

So now you're back at work, and everyone's still shuffling back to their desks with coffee and something crumbly, quite a bit of which will lodge itself between their keyboards' keys (and eventually render their keyboards useless, if not just disgusting). And they're all talking about their weekends, and how weekends always seem to fly right by, don't they, and how they wish the weekend could last at least three days, hahaha. And in the reception area, waiting for the office manager, sits a new temp who apparently doesn't know that "business casual" doesn't mean stirrup pants circa 1987 and a Tweetie Bird sweatshirt.

And already they're talking about next weekend and how they hope the weather will hold up, and ... and ... and ...

And you just want to tell them all to shut the fuck up, but you can't because you really need this job, even it if sucks and you're underappreciated and you're the only one there who knows what the hell you're doing.

So what are you doing, anyway? Well, you're taking that overwhelming, hapazard stack of garbage that's sitting on top of your desk -- the results of your boss' long overdue weekend clean-up of his office (not everyone golfs, after all) -- and spreading it all around your work space. Furrowing your brow, taking a studiedly casual sip of your coffee, opening up a document on your computer, and shuffling through a few of the papers until you "find" the one you need to consult in tandem with the random document you're about to view on your monitor. You're peering intently from paper to screen, gnawing a little on a fingernail ... and then going here.

Enjoy.