This is what "Mean" looks like...

Today is Surly Day.

I'm officially banning the use of the term "Monday" from here on out. It might sound strange to you, but it's alright. While you weren't looking, I already changed "Thursday" to "Omelet Day" and "Friday" to "Pubday". Pretty soon I'll have taken over the whole week, and you won't even have suspected a thing. Trust me, it'll be great.

I'd love to tell you what your calendar will look like in fifty years, but I can't. Something as monumental as renaming days has to happen organically. It can't be forced, or you'll end up with "Pudding Day" or "Flower Day" in place of Wednesday, and nobody wants that. It creates the false impression that Wednesdays are for pudding and flowers, thus making Wednesday really disappointing if you end up with neither--and usually that's the way it works. Unless I start getting pudding and flowers every Wednesday, in which case it's only right to call it "Pudding Flower Day". Make sense?

So, for the time being, the week looks like this:

Sunday, Surly Day, Tuesday, Wednesday, Omelet Day, Pub Day, Saturday.

I am taking suggestions for the leftover days, as long as they mean something more promising and literal than "Tuesday". What the hell is a "Tues", anyway?

At any rate, it's Surly Day because I'm always, always, always bitchy on Mondays. I try to drink extra coffee, but it exacerbates the problem. I try to abstain from coffee, but that exacerbates the problem. Essentially, because it's Surly Day, exacerbations turn into exacerbations, thus exacerbating the f*** out of my every last nerve and leaving me in an involuntary State of Bitch.

So far today, I've griped at my coworkers, bickered with Lovely (Surly) Husband, and crabbed at my mom on the phone. I felt alienated, most likely because I've been doing my best to ruin every good thing in my life all day long. On the grounds that confession is theoretically good for the soul, I thought I'd take a lonely moment to purify myself via Blogspot, so I did a Google Image search, looking for a good photo of "Mean".

And the clouds parted, and a C Major chord played triumphantly, and God slipped a well-manicured hand out of heaven and handed me the ultimate Surly Cure.

There, on page 1 of my results, was a picture of Val's kitty. Tee-hee!