“Did you have a good weekend? You all ready for work?”
Well, no. As a matter of fact, I’m not.
I would love to tell you that I am. Ready for work, that is. But the truth is, I am woefully unprepared.
I meant to be. I meant to be ready. But there was Margarita Night Friday up in the attic. And then there was the July 4th Barbecue at Amy’s Saturday night. There was the writing, the cooking, the refrigerator detailing, the transporting of the cats to their tap-dancing lessons.
Would you believe I completely forgot to leave time to get worked up about being a productive member of corporate America?
Don’t get me wrong. I’m one punctual and competent SOB; but I’m no good at that “You all read for work?” question. It just doesn’t seem that there’s a good answer to it.
Small talk is not my forte.
I should work on having prepared answers.
“Work? I’m at work?”
“Ready for work? Oh, now, yeah. I can’t remember what they called it, but the doctors said that I can continue with my regular routine as long as I use a hand sanitizer and don't – oh, crap – have you seen my face mask?”
“Yep! All ready for work! Say, could you cover for me for a couple hours this afternoon? The police – well, the less you know the better; but now that they’ve got the court order they’re going to take that sample whether I like it or not.”
It’s so important to have a good attitude, don’t you think?
Happy Monday, everyone.
A Family Saga
1 hour ago