Fucking monday fucking sucks man, always a horrible horrible day. The most you can ask of this day is that it is not quite as bad as you expected. Like, you swerve into oncoming traffic and a semi is coming and you think “oh shit, I’m gonna die.” Instead you are merely rendered a brain damaged quadriplegic, is what Monday is like. Or you avoid the semi but a soda can goes flying and hits you in the nuts.
I feel like fucking Garfield but I’ll say it: I hate Mondays. I have a case of the fucking Mondays. Tell me why: I don’t like Mondays, etc. That chick who shot all those people and was put to song by Bob Geldoff was really onto something.
delicioustacos 
Monday is a shit pile. So much so that the only thing worse than Monday is Sunday because at some point on Monday, Monday’s almost over – but for all 24 hours of Sunday, Monday fucking looms. I hate my job function to the point where not only has Sunday become an effort to not kill myself, but Friday afternoons, around the time I used to get excited about the fact that the week was over and I could now focus my energy on penetrating whatever emotionally unfulfilled 19 year old I’d lined up online, I now feel Sunday-level dread and ask myself how can I possibly enjoy anything if I’m ever coming back here another day in my life? When work sullies string-free unprotected sex with young strangers, a drastic life-change, or at least serious therapy, is in line. Instead, I’ll continue cruising the internet and do nothing, because effort requires effort.