Well hello there, Monday, you ugly & merciless henchman of the Universe. It appears you’ve returned – yet again – to rip me from the comfort & safety of my Real World and deposit me back into the land of editing & marketing-speak. Why, oh why do you insist on doing this to me on such a constant and unrelenting basis? I’ve never wronged you, oh mighty Universe. Ok, maybe there was that one time when…
What’s that? A paycheque, you say? I don’t care about your stupid paycheque. Oh wait – crap – yes, I do.
But if I didn’t have a mortgage to pay, you can rest assured I’d be ready, willing & able to stick it to the Man.
What? Too old to pull of that sort of rebellious, 20-something, idealistic prattle? Fine. But I would, too. Stick it to the Man, that is. You don’t know. I can rebel with the best of them. Well, in my head I can. In my head I’m a rock star, a published novelist, a Marathon champion & Nobel Laureate. For now I’ll go edit the bajeezus out of a Christmas ad campaign. But I’ll be back. Count on it.