Hey everyone, here’s my pitiful attempt at writing some humour. 😛
Just enjoyed my days off. This time I had Sunday and Monday off. Yes, now do any of you know about Mondanitis? Because I suffer from it big time! And that’s my topic. I am to prove that I suffer from Mondanitis.
Mondanitis tends to strike every Monday for reasons unbeknownst to science. My proof comes from my real life experience. We will give you the most recent example:
Just yesterday, I decided I was going to get out of my musty room and cycle up the hill near my house and then down to the shops and do some price checks for a fundraiser I’m running in a couple of weeks for the youth in my church.
Anyway, got on my bike, strapped on my backpack, and away I went. It definitely was good to get my legs moving after being cooped up for the past two days (ok, ok, no one was forcing me. I was just too lazy. :P). I got down to the shops, glided over to the post where I normally chain my bike, opened my back pack and then stopped dead in my tracks.
I’ve got my helmut, check. Glasses? Check. Bike? Check. Water? Check. Allen keys? Check. Utility knife? Check. Spare tube? Check. Patch kit? Check. Bike chain? Un-check.
No bike chain. I wanted to kick myself. There was no way that I could leave my bike unchained. I wouldn’t do it with my old mountain bike, much less a sparkling new road bike. That was asking for trouble.
So, it was hope back on the bike and cycle all the way back up the hill and then down to my house to get my chain. By the time I was back at the supermarket, I was feeling rather worked out.
Went through the supermarket, browsing and comparing prices, till I had enough and decided to look for something to eat as that was way more exciting. Finally decided that a whole BBQ chicken would be the cheapest way to go.
“One chicken please, ma’am.”
Sat down at the table, and methodically started eating the chicken. Now maybe I’m being a bit too over-the-top, but I swear that over 8 people gave me funny looks. Come on guys, it’s only a chicken!
Eating a whole chicken makes for some pretty greasy hands, and since I don’t like having sticky hands, especially in bike gloves, I went to the restrooms to wash up.
The restrooms in this centre are set like this: disabled closest, men’s and ladies’ about 20 m on down the corridor. Since I was only washing my hands, I decided that I would just press the automatic door button for the disabled, wash my hands, and be back out in a jiffy. Sure enough, it only took me 2 seconds at the most to wash my hands and I was walking back out to head home.
Just as I walked away, a curious noise caught my ear. It was coming from the disabled and sounded like running water. All of a sudden it hit me. I hadn’t turned the tap off.
I quickly turned around and hurried back. Too late. A Macca’s chick had already passed by and seen the tap and was just turning it off. Even worse, she had seen me come out of there.
“Thanks!” I stammered, “I forgot to turn it off.”
She just cracked up laughing, “That’s ok.”
I quickly melted out of sight. That was way too embarrassing! How could you do this to me Monday? Do you know the humiliation? The degradation!?
This is one of many examples of the cruel things Mondanitis tends to do to me. I rest my case.