There were other things I wanted and needed to do, besides working straight through the day. I didn’t tell anyone about them or ask for any extra consideration. I didn’t think I’d need to schedule my day around these extras, because I assumed I’d find the time somewhere during the day.

But this was a Monday, wasn’t it? Every time I thought I was ready to do something that wasn’t on the agenda, something else would come up to sop up my time and force me to reschedule the rest of the day. This happened time after time, until by the middle of the afternoon I gave up, realizing that a Monday was a Monday, no matter what plans I made.

I shouldn’t be surprised by this. Any time I make plans on a Monday, they almost always fall through. No matter how determined or optimistic I am at the start of the day, by the end of the day I’ve accomplished only the usual Monday tasks, plus whatever crimps and crises have been strewn in my path.

Why I ever think any particular Monday is going to be any different I don’t know. Maybe I just like to bathe in the hope of a different outcome, despite years of experience to the contrary. Giving up that hope seems like the last thing I should add to the agenda. Tuesday will surely turn out better.