I am certainly NOT a morning person. In fact, I feel we should have parliamentary policies on the ridiculous hour the Sun is allowed the rise in the morning. I feel around 10 is sufficient, as due to the large window in my room, I feel like I’m awoken to an alien abduction every morning.
Either that, or Ambie’s (my dog) snotty schnozza in my face.
Both are not appreciated.
This particular Monday morning was an exceptional feat that I even managed to get out of bed.
I’d had a jam-packed weekend, consisting of Ascot on Saturday, 8:30-19:30…
…followed straight by a quick change into golf attire and a long drive into Birmingham…
Sunday incurred a full day on Customer Services at work dealing with the ‘great unwashed’. A whole 5 hours of complaints, courtesy calls, and congealed cosmetics was fantastic.
Therefore, Monday morning was a bit of a shock. No sooner had I shut my eyes, I was awoken by my phone’s rather annoying impression of Big Ben. It’s particularly annoying when it signifies ‘getting up time’ …
Having got into the office around 9:15ish, I was surprised at how perky the office was on a Monday morning taking in to consideration:
1) It was Monday … morning!
2) the Country was still in mourning, following England’s dire performance on Friday
3) A whole week of work lay ahead of them. The weekend was another 4/5 days away.
4) It was Monday morning!!
Never-the-less, I cracked on with some press releases to ween me in gently after my marathon weekend.
To be honest, I’d love to account for a action-packed day, full of drama, delirium, & deadlines.
But I was too exhausted to conjure up anything near ‘delirium’, the nearest I got to drama was an episode of Corrie when I got in…and deadlines weren’t until Wednesday, so disappointment all round im afraid.
The day blended into a collage of phone calls, fidgeting, and Facebook, and 5pm was soon upon us.