I try not to hate Monday mornings... really I do. So when I woke up today with a splitting headache, I told myself 'Don't blame Monday, it could have happened any other day of the week. Relax, today will be fine.'
I trudged downstairs for my morning shot of caffeine. No disasters there. And then as I looked through the kitchen window I noticed it. Rain. In the night. And all the clothes I'd forgotten to bring inside drenched in it. Crisp white handkerchiefs drooping under the weight of the absorbed water like forlorn peace flags.
'Take a deep breath. Do not flip out. It's ok.' I repeated the mantra to myself as I wrung the clothes out and hung them inside the living room.
A few asprins and a hot shower later, the ache in my head had subsided to a nagging pain. As I dabbed on the war paint, God and Monday plucked the final straw right out of my desperate fingers. There, on the side of my face the first signs of... pimples.
ADULT ACNE? REALLY GOD IS THIS FAIR? IS THIS PUNISHMENT FOR THE MATHS TEST I FAILED IN CLASS 5 AND NEVER TOLD MY PARENTS ABOUT? IS THIS FOR LYING ABOUT MY WEIGHT? IS THIS BECAUSE I FORGOT JANMASHTAMI AND MADE KHEER THAT WAS ACTUALLY HOT MILK WITH SUAGR AND SAFFRON?WHY GOD WHY?
It's official. I have declared war on Monday. The day no longer exists for me. I have washed my hands of it, like fathers do of libidinous daughters in Tamil films.