Monday, Monday...

 

{da, da, da-da, da-da...}  

I hate Mondays. I realized this with a lethargic vengeance today.  

Sundays are exhausting, but they at least have a routine, a purpose. I know it will be hard to get up on Mondays, because, I'm not joking; Sundays are exhausting. Lately, however, my sleep schedule has shifted a few hours to the right again. I don't go to sleep until after 1:00am, but I still sleep 10 or so hours. Not entirely true - I awoke at 9:30am. I think I fed a cat, and a chicken. I didn't feel terribly sleepy, but there was nothing grabbing my attention, persuading me to stay up and get involved. So I lay back down and slept another three hours. Of DEEP sleep. I wake up barely remembering what I did at 9:30am, and irritated by a bad dream I had about spending 6 hours in a tire shop, getting nothing accomplished, and having my credit card taken away. 

Mondays are the beginning of another long week of What The Hell Should I Do With Myself. No motivation. No interest. Not entirely true - I'm quite interested in food, although when I get up (finally) I don't normally eat immediately. This is probably why I'm hungry again at midnight, thus fueling my shifted sleep schedule. I digress. Nothing is interesting, nothing is motivating, the house is still a mess. I don't want to clean it. At midnight or 1:00am, feeling guilty over another week of doing nothing, I think, in detail, of the things I want to get done the next day, the next week. When I wake up at 9:30am, I have no energy, or desire, to move the bed and vacuum the floor and hang up that pile of clothes that I'm not sure I will ever wear again. And at that hour, or should I say, at that point in the shifted sleep schedule, I don't even feel the pull of food.  

When I say food, I, of course, don't mean anything readily available in the kitchen. My interest in food is anything I don't have to make, that is bad for me, and available at many various establishments for which one must put on clothes and use a car to patronize. 

And this brings us to the two things that keep me from eating out all day long, every day: MONEY, of which I have NONE, and that discouraging road block of getting dressed and leaving the house. 

Other than that, I really should go to the library today and get another bag full of books. That whole getting dressed and using a vehicle thing keeps me at home, again, with a growling stomach, yesterday's hair clipped up on my head and a dirty house.

Why can't I find a way to make the line spacing more readable? And to get back to Mondays...the start of another long week, of doing nothing, and having no purpose. I have to say, that having a healthy, capable, unemployed 20 yr old in the bedroom doing nothing all day, every day, adds to my discontent. I think I would feel less useless if he were more productive and useful and contributing to society and life and growing up. I hate summer because it is so dang hot, but I also cannot wait for school to start again, so I can have the house to myself during the day. So I can have the dirty house to my unmotivated, uninterested, lethargic, pathetic self. 

The cats don't judge.