"If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth."
Monday
Sometimes I feel bad for you because not a lot of people like you. Unlike Friday, whom everyone loves and looks forward to, you are detested and feared and cursed at. It was just your luck that you have to come after Sunday.
Monday mornings are the worst. People are still hung over from the weekend that has come and gone. And they blame you for it.
I should feel bad for you. But I don’t. Because you’re cruel. You don’t treat us kindly. You just have to rub it in that weekend is over.
“It’s over, dummy. Go drag your pathetic little self out of that bed right now or else you’ll be sorry you were ever born” *diabolical laughter*
See? That is why people hate you.
