Everybody, it seems, posts on social media the same thing at the beginning of each week. And it seems apparent that they all hate Mondays.
I can’t blame them, really. Who wants Monday to come, when the weekends are so good? Especially when that Monday comes with the loss of an hour after we had to “spring forward.”
And besides, we’ve all had Mondays that were, well, Mondays.
I had one not too long ago that I’d like to forget. It was extra mean to me. It began when I made the decision to roll over and sleep in a little, since my cat and I were snug in our warm bed. When I did decide to get up, I realized that I didn’t have a lot of time to get ready for work. This meant I had to jump in the shower quickly.
When I tried this, however, it became readily apparent that I had no water.
You see, a garbage truck had taken out our water main in the wee hours of the morning, and I had no idea, because I was snug in my warm bed, dreaming of the silky voice of Severus Snape. I let the good folks at work know that in my current state of stink, I would be in late, and would be working at home until I the water came back on and I could, um, de-funk myself.
Long story short, the water didn't come back on for quite a while and I was stuck at home. I could work from home, but I'd rather work from, well, work. I like to keep the two separate, if possible. My home is my refuge. I don't like to mix work and home. But mix them I did. I do not have a sugar daddy, therefore, work must happen.
When the water finally did come back on, my toilet didn't work. So I'd been home, for hours, with no water and no functioning toilet...and still no toilet. You can do the math.
A couple of calls later, I had a plumber there to fix it. It was a quick repair, thank goodness, and my bladder settled down once again. I again attempted the shower thing and once clean, felt human again.
I was clean, but disappointed. You see, it was Halloween, and we all had planned to dress up for work. I had decided to go to work dressed as a beat –up Florida fan. I was going to enjoy seeing the reactions of all the Florida fans that I worked with.
I missed out on that. I also missed out on seeing my "coworker," Rocco the bulldog, dressed as the Dogfather. I was double-bummed.
What I did get out of the day was a reminder. You see, when the plumber, resplendent with his crack in full view, fixed my toilet, he replaced the float thingie. But my toilet developed Turret’s. It made this loud whistling noise. Whenever. No real rhyme or reason. Just whenever.
At first, I thought, "I'm calling this guy back and have him come and fix it immediately." Then when I heard it again, I heard laughter. And not my own. It was God laughing.
No, I wasn’t going nuts. The Psalmist wrote that "He who sits in the heavens laughs." I knew that and believed it. One has only to look at a platypus to know God has a sense of humor. I had just never heard Him laugh. I know it was Him. He enjoyed the humor in my gotta-work-at-home, I-stink-out-loud, haven't-a-pot-to-pee-in Monday...topped off with a Turret's-stricken toilet.
It was, after all, funny.
I decided to put off calling the plumber back. I determined that it was better to just chuckle every time the Turret's kicks in, and remember that He who sits in the heavens is laughing with me...not at me.