I dread Mondays

Around 2:30pm on Sunday afternoons I start to dread the passing of time. No matter what fun thing I have planned for the next weekend... I dread time moving forward to monday. I dread phone calls, stupid condescending e mails, playing "office." I dread it. I start to move slower and avoid sleeping because once i go to sleep-- here it comes.

I am in Palm Springs with donna. She was telling me about how she did something with Mark and Gorman and Naomi and some others from law school-- I got a little sad. I, lately, have forced myself to believe that everyone is busy and doesn't hang out anymore. That they don't play scrabble while drinking wine and listening to Etta James. I forced myself to believe that people didn't hang out on the weekends and they'd all settled into "life" that thing people begrudgingly settle into. -- or that thing they've rushed towards... striving to turn into their parents. I got a little homesick for law school... and dinner parties... and bocci ball on the lawn on a wednesday... And lunch breaks. Lunch breaks at a cuban restaurant with 5 friends making fun of their co-workers.

That's what you are supposed to do... be generous with laughter and good times.


I guess I also became lonely for the idea of making it on ideals. like the idea that with enough passion i could change the world with my determination. Maybe it is just that you have to learn to change the world on a smaller scale- like being nice to the bus driver on the way to work... or telling a co-worker that her hair looks nice. Not ... ended sex-trafficking in Cambodia. Reach for the stars.. .. yadda yadda.... I say .. have you ever reached for something over your head... and a whole open box of ritz crackers fell on your head and all over your freshly washed floor.. it's like that. "Reach for the boxes you can... not the stars... and if you can't reach them get a step ladder."

but that's not inspirational.. is it?

Waiting... waiting on the world to change.