People always say Mondays get a bad rap. I always say if they didn't bring a long, hectic week at a job that I.... umm... less than love, I wouldn't mind it at all. It's not the fact that it comes after Sunday or something about its name that makes peole dread it. It's that it signifies the end of family fun and relaxation and the beginning of very little time for family and lots of busy and stress. That being said, I try not to actually dread Mondays (though I do always wish my weekends had a little more time in them). I don't always succeed, but I try to always enter things with a positive attitude. It helps.
This morning, however, began with my sleeping right through my alarm that was to wake me up in time to get some exercise before the rest of the fam gets up and going. I don't mean I turned my alarm off or snoozed a little. I mean I woke up almost an hour after it was set with no recollection of it ever going off. The hubs swears it did.
Then I burned my toast. And when I say burned, I mean it was completely black - except for the orange, glowing part. Yep, actually set it kind of on fire. I had to throw it into the sink and run water on it.
That can't be the start my Monday needed. :)
OR, maybe I'm just getting all the bad for the week out of the way from the get go, thus prepping myself for an amazing day. :)
Here's hoping.
Love & Shipoopies,
Leslie
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