MONDAY BLUES

When a Monday morning kicks off in a weary manner, then the prospect of the whole week becomes scary. You do not know what to expect and when. It is more like operating in a vacuum, where you do not know or feel anything, all you do is pray that the wheels of time turn faster so that you get to Thursday again.

I am not sure how you spent your weekend, but all I am sure about is that nobody quite enjoys their Monday mornings. Somehow we all would like to wish away Mondays, get them totally expunged from the calendar. It would be fallacious, at least I believe, if anyone was to claim that they always enjoy their Mondays. However, some would, depending on how they spend their weekends, look forward to Monday.

I would not say I had a busy weekend, that would be a lie, but then again that might just be the reason why I did not enjoy this particular Monday. Maybe a glimpse into how I spent my weekend would come in handy in convincing you to join me in this campaign where we officially hate Mondays. This is not a journal I am doing, so for my own good I will leave out all the ‘juicy’ details and hope that it is one of those moments where curiosity and suspense makes you remain locked on my piece of literature.

I am not sure when your weekend begun, mine started on Wednesday morning, picked up on Thursday and by Friday it was over the roof. I know that contradicts my earlier statement of me having a not so busy weekend, but then again who said you have to be busy for you to get over the roof? The details of Thursday and Friday I will have to minimize since they fall under the ‘juicy’ category of which we are not venturing into. I do not drink either by the way, in case you are wondering or expecting to read a drunk’s confession.

So on Thursday my acquaintances and I (text missing) … then on Friday I had to wake up at 7 o’clock in the morning because I was to be settled down by 8 a.m. to acquire some knowledge on Equity (by the way, did you know that equity aids the vigilant and not the indolent? Mmmh) Then came my good professor with his theatrics on Trial Advocacy (again, text missing)… before you know it I was having a sweet (‘juicy’ details withheld) Friday night.

Saturday! A good day on the calendar, never disappoints, unless it is off season in the major football (yanks prefer soccer) leagues. After my sweet (‘juicy’ details withheld) Friday night, it was inevitable that I was going to wake up past 8 a.m. Ooh! I almost forgot, I received a phone call from a special friend asking me to help out with something, so I rushed out of bed, into the shower, got dressed up and set off. It was quite more disappointing for me that I did not offer that much help, than it was for her.

However, we cannot allow my unfortunate incapacity towards my friend’s request derail us from the main issue. The day was set to be a much more eventful day. I was also caught up in the football web and on this particular day I watched Gor Mahia FC on the one hand, unfortunately lose the Kenyan (Tusker) Premier League title, while on the other hand, Tusker FC (yes…tusker) deservedly retained the same. That was a highly predictable game by around the 30^th minute, so I might have been disappointed as a Gor fan but I would not really say I was hurt. Then across the borders came a more entertaining and unpredictable game. Some well known devils in red came eye to eye with certain villains; it was a bad meets evil turn of events.

To cut an ‘evil’ story short, you do not easily get rid of a devil, especially when it is in red. Sunday, I woke up to a pancake promise, rushed to say my Hail Mary and within a couple of hours the pancakes were history (whoever wants to rid the world off the amazing me should simply spike my pancakes). Later that day… I still think old Harry Redknap was the man for Spurs, the boys lacked their usual self-belief and drive. So that was a boring game, it was much better when time came for an astonishingly improved Chelsea side who were up against the see-sawing Scousers. You cannot mention Liverpool and fail to talk about their natural cheat and cheeky number 7, (of course I have never forgiven him for Ghana’s exit from World Cup 2010). Then another (‘juicy’ details withheld) night capped my weekend off.

After all those activities, mind you I have not revealed the distance covered and kilo joules of energy lost in between, I was still expected to be up and paying attention by 8 a.m. So I dragged myself out of bed to mark the end of another sweet (‘juicy’ details withheld) night. The difference between this one and the others was that it led to the dreaded Monday morning. The dreadful day that should just be scrapped out of the calendar (I wonder how many signatures I would gather in support of a petition to that effect). Monday Blues, that’s what I call it because as I sat there looking drowsy and feeling awful, I could not pay attention to my lecturer. It was Monday Blues, and this is what I was writing during my Property Law Lecture…oops!! My lecturer might just be one of those who get to read this, I have to go study, let us wait for the next Monday.