On a rainy Monday...

The title of this posting is from the chorus of a Shiny Toy Guns song. I guess I could've used any number of songs. "Monday, Monday." "Manic Monday." "I hate Mondays." Has there ever been a song that says, "man, I love Mondays. Being back in the office under those soul-destroying flourescent lights is terrific! Having to deal with meaningless crap! It's awesome!" No. There hasn't. In fact, aside from "Friday I'm in Love," have there been many other songs about days of the week? If you can think of any, leave a comment.

The weather is disgusting today. Appropriate for a Monday, I suppose. You could argue that a beautiful sunshiny Monday is no better, since you're stuck at work anyway. At least with a sunny day, my thought process would be "jeez, I wish I didn't have to work today," whereas today it's "I hope a meteor crashes through the ceiling and kills me."

Also, I think the army of rogue germs that periodically attacks my throat may be regrouping for another assault. This is typically the time of year they're most organized, but I'm onto them. I've been feeling a tickle in my throat for the past week or so, and I've been using a combination of DayQuil, NyQuil, Excedrin and Aleve to keep them at bay. Today I've adopted a "take no prisoners" approach, which included the purchase of 36 packets of Emergen-C. Okay, so I really only wanted five or so, but it was all Walgreens had, so I went with it. Hopefully Emergen-C can be my Darth Vader, and will crush those miserable germs before they do anything serious. The box recommends taking 2-4 packets a day, which would give me anywhere from 3334% to 6668% of my daily recommended Vitamin C and 2000% to 4000% of my daily recommended Vitamin B (6 and 12). I have no idea what this means, but it sounds good. So I'll be choking down raspberry fizzy ass-water for the next five days. Have to be ready for Cinco De Mayo, after all.

This past weekend was relatively uneventful. I went to Dallas to see my mom (and sister and brother-in-law and brother). We watched basketball, we made hamburgers, we played putt-putt. All in all, a very relaxing weekend. On the way into town on Friday, I pulled off the interstate to find a bathroom and get something to eat. What I found was perhaps the nicest Whataburger in existence. The typical orange and white metal roof was replaced by illuminated orange and white panels. They had a patio. They had TVs. After you ordered they gave you a buzzer(!). The landscaping was pretty and the grass was bright green and well-manicured (it really looked like a golf course). They had a jukebox! And on top of all that, the whataburger was delicious. I swear, they sprinkled love on it. And since I'd been battling this sore throat, I decided that I needed a milkshake. So I ordered a 32 oz milkshake. I know what you're thinking. "Good lord, you glutton, what do you need with 32 ounces of milkshake? Show some restraint." But it was a medium! There was a size above it! This was amazing to me. My throat hurt, but not enough for 44 ounces of ice cream. Although, that sounds pretty nice right about now.