
Only it’s the comma sutra. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to watch “Wordplay” the same way again.

Only it’s the comma sutra. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to watch “Wordplay” the same way again.
So my four day staycation is over, and I dragged myself out of bed at 5:40 and was sleepily waiting on the platform for the Metro at 6:10. I’m back in the Office, at my cube, trying to remember what exactly it is I do for a living, urging myself to pick up the phone, to double-check data from India.
It’s like Monday.
Only it’s worse. It’s like Super Monday.
A coworker joked that was because I’d had two weekends, essentially, back-to-back.
But he’s wrong. Because, see, I usually work at the Bookstore on Sundays. So Saturday, that one, lone day, is my only weekend. So, really, I had four weekends, back-to-back. Four. And y’know what? That makes Monday four times as hard to face as usual, even if today really is just Tuesday.