Workin’ on the weekend

Today is Friday, or, as I like to call it, Monday. “Monday?”, you ask. Yes, Monday. Because my work week commences this morn, you see. For the next three days, from 5 in the a.m. until half past 5 in the p.m. I’ll be workin’ for tha man, totin’ his barge and liftin’ his bale.

I don’t like it, this workin’ for tha man, but like the Good Book says: “By the sweat of thy brow…”. And besides, I’ve discovered that lying around all day in my robe, eating sharp cheddar cheese and potato chips, goofing on my laptop, all while watching General Hospital, doesn’t exactly promote brow-sweat, nor does it pay all that well. Go figure.

So, I think I’ll stumble to the kitchen for a shot of Joe, check the weather and the morning headlines, scrape the frost from my car windows (Old Man Winter will not die soon enough to suit me!), and join my fellow wage earners on that “…long road to the middle”.

I’d rather watch General Hospital, though.