I'm not in the mood...

for a Monday. I know that I'm acting like a petulant four year old. I know that, as an adult, I need to pull up my imaginary bootstraps that those of older generations are forever referencing and get over the fact that Mondays happen. At least once a week or four times a month, depending on how you look at it. But to be honest? I'd rather just skip the whole affair all together. I hate pulling myself out of bed to take a shower and get ready for work. (To be honest? I hate pulling myself out of bed every day, but I reserve a special kind of loathing for Monday mornings.) I hate trying to convince myself, on Sunday night, that I don't mind going back to my regular work week. I heartily dislike feeling like I'm clearing cobwebs from my brain all day long. This Sunday I'm especially not loving the idea of Monday rolling around to take its place at the beginning of my week. Over the last seven days I've spent a lot of time with my mom and my sisters. Well, yes, if you must know, my brothers and my dad were there too. I mean, I like them a whole big lot, but you can't take pictures like this with brothers:

The answer you're looking for is no, you can't. In my experience, little brothers don't take kindly to red lipstick. See for yourself:

Whit got him on the forehead before she took the picture. Poor kid. He's too nice to physically move his sisters away from him as forcefully as Max or Cam would have. It sufficeth me to say that I had a completely fantastical week last week. Can you see why I don't want Monday to come? It means that I have to leave a simply lovely week behind and start one that just entails a whole lot of being at work and waiting around for a phone call about that secret government job that I mentioned a couple of posts ago. So, I must ask that if you find yourself with any spare time this week, you throw up a few extra prayers or some good karma on my behalf so I can get this job, okay?