Since leaving the Corporate world last March, my hatred of Mondays severely diminished. I actually sort of liked Mondays, to tell you the truth…
It’s back. I officially hate Mondays. With a deep, burning passion.
Work. Work. Work.
Monday is the day that hubs and kiddo run off to their prospective job and school, leaving me alone to fend for myself. I spend the day doing my part time job training, (internet surfing), endless piles of laundry (yes, I know that I shouldn’t let them pile up, but that’s beside the point!), a dishwasher full of dishes, (more internet surfing), and a floor begging to be rid of the dirt and scuff marks acquired over the weekend.
First and foremost is the part time job training, which will be over tomorrow…and then? WORK. Work has become a dirty four letter word, once again.
When did I become so lazy? When did I become so spoiled that I now sqwak at 4 measely little hours of teleconferencing?
I don’t know exactly how that happened, and I can’t pinpoint the exact moment, but it happened…
I became a lazy housewife.