Mondays are misunderstood. The subway rush hours begin.
Did you remember your travel mug?
I forgot mine on our shoe cabinet, next to the front door, we built it ourselves and had to cut its legs off, to make it fit but it didn’t seem cruel at the time. It was too late when I remembered my travel mug.
I came home that night and reheated that day-old coffee, added a dash of cinnamon to make it loveable again and happily ever after.
I put on my headphones. Play. The Smiths. Simplicity is romantic and refreshing. I had (have) a very cool friend who once said to me: “I’m probably the biggest person you know that listens to The Smiths”. He was right. I never considered size as a factor regarding “The Smiths” but now it makes perfect sense.
Some make-up will help lessen the burden of a Monday morning too. Add gold. Jewellery over power-suits. Easeful. It is brutally cold and humid and my hot coffee mug is getting cold and lonely, forgotten on the white shoe cabinet next to my black, second-hand doc Martens.
I wonder if people get my opinions about second hand leather every time I see my doc Martens. Probably not. I’ve been kicked out of most vegan groups so I don’t have anyone relevant to ask. Good. I smiled. Plant-based. Heart emoji. Wink.
I escaped from the tube and walked on the frosty sidewalk. Where are all the fairy lights? Do fairies call them just lights?
Do they have human lights? I wonder how those would look like. They’d probably hate Mondays too.
Would I be more loveable again if we added a little cinnamon?
If so, we can watch a movie tonight. One with a great twist ending, that -brilliant as we are, we’ll figure out before the movie ends but say nothing not to spoil it for each other.
I walked into the kitchen but forgot why.