I’m giving you a hall pass today. What?!?! No. Jerk. Apologize to your significant other RIGHT NOW. Not that kind of hall pass. The “If you complained today it’s okay because I’m late with my post” hall pass. Geez Louise. What is it with you people?
Earlier this year we lost a dear a friend way too early (you can read about how awesome he was if you click here). One of the songs that was a part of his picture slide show was “It’s a Sunshine Day”. Yes. The Brady’s Bunch’s “Sunshine Day”. Chris LOVED that song. Not a kitschy kind of love either. The kind of love that when he was having a bad day, he’d listen to that song and, I kid you not, be instantaneously happy. Also. If you weren’t careful and you were at his house having a bad day, he’d make you listen to it as well.
“I think I’ll go for a walk outside now, the summer sun’s callin’ my name…” Never mind. That was a bad idea. I’m losing my voice (yesterday my loving family told me I sounded like a zombie with laryngitis and that, come to think of it, I looked like a zombie too. They love me, but I digress) and I can’t currently do the song justice. Here you go.
I know, I know. But let’s move on, shall we?
The point is, I am giving you until school starts again, or for those of you who are rugrat free – until whatever the Monday after Labor Day is – to get your happy shizzle self in order. Practice makes sort of almost something that’s nothing like perfect and I think you have to do something 10 times or something like that for it to be a habit. That’s why one of my kids, who shall remain blognameless, regularly picks his or her nose, because he or she have done it WAY more than 10 times. (“Stop bossing me around Tracy!!” “I don’t even really know you!” “And if I do really know you I don’t let you boss me around in real life, so why would I let you boss me around now?!?!” You know what? Shut your pie hole and keep reading. You heard me. Stop dilly-dallying around between these parentheses.)
Also – yes – it has to be Monday. I know you SAHMs & SAHDs never have a clue what day of the week it is, but if you’d just subscribe to my blog then you’d get an email reminder every Monday! See how helpful I am? Monday is the day that everyone complains the most. Monday also sets the standard for the rest of your week. Your attitude sets the direction of your day and your week – and if you live with other people of the big or little variety, your attitude has a huge affect on the direction of their day as well.
Examples of things NOT to say on Monday Morning:
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Oh right, like I WANT to be up this early waking you up. I’d rather still be in bed you little jackbag.
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Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even breathe near me. Deal?
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Get up and since you’re awake let’s talk about all the things you did this weekend and on March 3, 2011 that made me angry with you. Not that I’m holding a grudge.
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I hate Mondays! It’s like someone pulled out my intestinal tract and used it to jump out the window and swing into the window on the floor below me!
See what I’m saying in an exaggerating, but hilarious, manner? You are steering your day right into a ice burg and sinking it. And it’s not just affecting your day, it’s affecting those around you. It’s effectively your fault Jack is dead and Rose was so senile she threw a jewel worth millions of dollars into the ocean. Catching my drift?
This week’s assignment? Find your happy place, your happy thought, your happy song, your happy underwear – whatever it is that makes you instantaneously happy, hold on to it, tell me or someone else what it is (accountability) and then put it somewhere where you will be sure to see it or remember it on Monday morning. Even if it’s just a Post-It note taped to your mirror.
Slowly, but surely we will get there together. You can punch as many people in the throat as you want to tomorrow. But please still read People I Want to Punch in Throat on Mondays. I say this mostly because I don’t want to get punched in the throat.
We’ll work on facial expressions another week. And also that eye roll. (You thought I didn’t see that, didn’t you?)
