I wish this was in the signature of all my emails today. And maybe tattooed on my forehead:
I've got a case of the Mondays reminiscent of grade school, when you fell down at recess and Mom made the tuna with too much mayo so it made the bread all soggy, and Mrs. Stewart let some other douche be the line leader even though it was YOUR turn to be the line leader, and you're pretty sure everyone hates you because this is not how it's supposed to work.
Of course you'd go back on Tuesday and maybe Mrs. Stewart would be hungover so you'd get to color all afternoon, and fuck if there's one thing you love, it's coloring. And everything would be okay.
I'm bringing my Crayolas tomorrow in the hope of a better day. Feel free to do the same.