On the way into work this sunny, bright morning, I glimpsed Monday, sallow and grubby and gaunt, crouched in a weedy wet ravine by the side of the road. Several giddy schoolchildren, waiting on a late bus, were roundly beating him with sticks as passing motorists slowed and cheered. Tough luck for now, Monday.
Tough luck for now.
Because it is Friday, people. And it is sunny.
And it is Friday.
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