A case of the Mondays
I’m so over Mondays. The only good thing about them was 10 cent wing night, but now that I can’t eat wings, the only redeeming quality about Monday is that it consistently ends at 11:59 p.m. and gives us Tuesday. My lackluster attempts at finding a glass half full yesterday has led me to the lingering depressive attitude on Tuesday. So I sit, rather pathetically, with a mammoth chocolate shake (not recommended by my doctor) from J.P. Licks as I surrender to my statistics homework.
And honestly how does Monday expect me to be pleased when I am forced to get back into the grind after a sublime weekend in Vermont with the family. While I could banter on for days about the negative effects of Monday, I recognize that it is now Tuesday and time to move on. As a quick side note before I pull it together and end my rant I just need to get this out. Whoever thought green juice was good is an absolute maniac. In efforts to follow through with my health kick I opted for green juice as I’ve heard of the insane health benefits. Extra shot of wheat grass? You betcha. It tasted like a fresh cut lawn mixed with vegetables I cannot even pronounce, and it looked like bile. I never want to taste it again. So I have burned ‘learn how to make green juice’ off of my list of things to accomplish.
On my quest to become a master roaster, I successfully roasted salmon filets and broccoli. Unfortunately I tried the broccoli straight out of the oven and have subsequently singed the majority of my taste-buds. Lesson learned, do not eat food covered in olive oil directly out of the oven. Even with half my taste-buds missing it still tasted great. So while green juice was an epic fail, I am well on my way to being a connoisseur of roasted salmon.
And tonight, I’m back to hip hop yoga. Maybe I’ll do a headstand today. Probably not considering I have not been to a class in ages, but maybe the inner yogi will appear and inspire me to at least try.
