More specifically, I hate Mondays when I get up early, full of vigour for the dawning of a new day, marvel at the birds singing their morning song, and jump into the car to get to the gym before work. Leaving the house at 7 a.m. wasn’t a hardship this morning, as it was an unexpectedly nice looking morning. As it was early I decided on the motorway route to the gym (round the back of Glasgow on the M8 instead of my usual London Road route).
I hate Mondays when they start off so well, then announce that “Hey, I’m Monday, you’re supposed to be having a crap day” by making a caravan breakdown further up the road, and leaving you snagged in a 7 mile tailback, and making a 20 minutes journey last for 2 hours 20 minutes….
So here I sit, hacked off, unshaven, unshowered (quite clean but I need the shower to wake up in the mornings), and decidely “ungym’d”.
Bloody Mondays.
