Mondays … Why do I love 'em?
This morning the train is forty minutes late getting in to London (nothing new there); next we have a jumper on the tube, so it's "everybody off" and jog the four miles to Westminster.
I get in, have my second shower of the day, change my clothes (I keep a spare set at the office as this is a fairly regular routine), grab a latte from the Brazilian coffee shop and am about to start work when little Jo, my secretary sneaks up and digs me in the ribs, sending half the latte down my front.
Then the fire alarm goes off …
Oh joy.
At least I can get a top up for my coffee as we're all standing outside in the cold drizzle. And the firemen are a nice treat for the girls. False alarm, as always.
Nathalie in the coffee shop laughs at my re-designed shirt and advises me to try drinking this coffee, not wearing it.
Now I have to forgo the sushi bar at luchtime and go buy some new clothes …
Standing in the rain with my new coffee, my boss comes over to admire my stain and tells me she's put me up another pay grade, backdated to September.
Whether I am supposed to draw some moral lesson from these events is beyond me. But I'm left with the feeling that some mondays are just plain groovy.
8 comments:
Pay grade, huh? That's always nice, especially when you have to guy a new shirt. As for my Monday, I'm getting a slow start because their is no school today, so I didn't have to get up as early as usual to get the kid off to class. It's kind of a lazy day, actually.
Wow. A slow start to a monday.
That's a kind of impossible dream for someone who has to hit the ground running at 4.40 am …
Enjoy the laziest monday possible, Robyn.
Your boss gave you a raise while you were wearing a stained shirt? I need a new job.
There is such a thing as a raise? Don't tell me of such fairytales for I shall be envious of groovy, lazy, serendipitous mondays that do not exist in my little realm of the world.
oh, and when I get a stain on my shirt, someone hands me a tide-to-go pen (a stain remover) and tells me that my chest is not the place to save "snacks for later". the nerve.
Hee hee.
It would have been easier to stain the rest of the shirt with coffe than to try to remove what was quite an ocean of latte.
And, perversely (see posts passim), i really do love my job and my boss and mondays. Weird, huh?
I am with Bob Geldof on the Monday question.
No question: mondays rule.
Rule all evil.
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