I’ll tell you why I like Mondays. Its a fresh start.
The weekend has allowed time to mull things over, even if you are like me and work for half the weekend too, Mondays are still about making the most of what is yet to come for the rest of the week. Forward planning, putting wrongs to rights, talking to that person you’ve been avoiding for yonks, tackling that dreaded stuff you’ve been putting off for ages, afterall the deadline is tomorrow and then it’s gone – done – dusted – goodbye.
My Monday this week will be about all that, trying to put things into perspective and then bam! Straight on with the rest of the week.
So, Monday lovers and haters, having just had my review of The Virginmarys gig at Xoyo published on Stereoboard, I am currently writing a review about the Wheatus gig (yes, you may have guessed by now that Monday is actually my day off! And yes, I have learnt to love Tuesdays too,) I had the joy of attending last week and to get me fired up please join me in a little Teenage Dirtbag, there’s one of those in all of us. Enjoy.
Long live the fans!
Being an invalid for the last five weeks has almost rendered me invalid. Like an out of date ticket or an expired warranty, I have achieved virtually nothing, not even a poem.
Should I be writing about achieving nothing? Well, I feel that I should explain my prolonged silence on Facebook, Twitter and here, on my blog, but feeling guilty about it is an emotion I am trying, feebly, to knock on the head.
I think we all should.
Life’s busy isn’t it? We forget sometimes how to take care of ourselves when our frantic day to day lifestyles demand every ounce of our energy. We work hard, worry hard, put all our eggs in one basket, try to do one million and one things at once and play hard (if we can!). Any other rock and roll mammas and dadas like me out there? Well, our work never seems to be done – kids (ah but we love ’em) sap every last gram of goodness from our brains and bodies and the inevitable wake up call is the word INVALID.
Five weeks of invalidity is crap. I’ve lived off soup and yoghurt, tried every shelf remedy under the sun, done more than my fair share of antibiotics, suffocated on my own plugs of green sputum, lost 5lbs, coughed my vocal cords to shreds and watched night TV repeatedly (poor old Michael Hutchence and bless those wildlife sanctuary vets) because I dreaded sleeping for split seconds at a time.
Sometimes people, it is good to do nothing, guilt free; just look after yourselves. Promise me?
Writing this post proves that I am getting back to my old self again. Yep, its therapeutic ain’t it? I might even listen to a bit of music… then again, here come the kids…