I might as well face it; Monday will be here tomorrow and there is nothing I can do about it. Well, I suppose I could turn my clocks back in the morning and play make-believe; sleep in and have a late breakfast. But I'm quite sure that some semblance of authority at the bookstore would call me, before I could really start to enjoy the illegal day off. I would be asked if I was coming in and why I hadn't called. In other words, I would be acting like a sociopath; not obeying rules set forth by society, so that everything runs smoothly...which it never does anyway.
It sure would be nice to have a Monday off, especially the Monday after Christmas, but his week brings with it New Year's Eve and the New Year's Day sale (20% off everything in the store!) I'm two books behind my reading goal for the year. I had set a goal of 42 books, and I've read 39. I'll most likely finish William Gass's In the Heart of the Heart of the Country tomorrow evening, but then again, I thought I'd have it finished on Christmas day. I've just been afflicted with this malady called post-Christmas exhaustion.
There are no more holidays off for the foreseeable future -- paid or unpaid. I haven't heard a word about it, but our bookstore and it's parent Lake Forest Park branch, usually hold a holiday party, after the holidays. There is no time for a celebratory evening when all the the clerks are counting money. Free food and beer can wait until after the our busiest season. Last year we met at The Garage on Capitol Hill. Free food and beer, and the most boring party games you could possibly imagine. We did get a free hour of bowling though. I've been wanting to go bowling. Really!
So, my Sunday evening is winding down. I just realized that I no longer have the stamina to continue reading, but making up bullshit for my blog post seems to take less mental energy. Go figure. It was a perfect grey winter day in Seattle, and if you live in Seattle, you know what I mean. Sometimes there is just something comforting about that blanket of grey hanging over the neighborhoods. The cold misty skies also give one an easy excuse to laze about, take naps and long baths, and just generally enjoy the fact that Sunday is not yet Monday. I don't think Sunday will ever become Monday. Well, not until 12:01 tonight, and then Sunday becomes Monday. At that point I'll most likely still be trying to find a comfortable position in bed, and the right music to send me into restful sleep. The somnolent stratosphere, so to speak.
Monday morning will officially arrive when my phone chimes at 8:30 tomorrow morning and at 8:31 I'll feel the entire weight of my 53 years on my shoulders, as I drag my tired ass out of bed, and begin another week of work. One of the highlights of my day is my walk to work. The twenty minute trek gives me time to listen to music, and space to let my thoughts drift a little, before walking into the world of retail. And then it's eight hours of books, books, books, until I make that twenty minute walk back home...uphill this time!
I still have enough time to snack, step outside to imbibe, and then check all my web presences before turning in, and so I shall...