[ASIDE: Here is my new idea. Everyone should work four-day weeks. Our third off-day will not be assigned; it will be of our choosing. It can vary from week to week. Boviously we'll have to work around what's going on at work, but still, only four days. The fifth day can be used to do things like go the post office and get one's hair cut and visit the doctor and go to the bank. Normal things that are so, so much easier to get done during the workweek, only we can't, because we're at work, too!]
I stood in line behind a woman and in front of her was a woman and her 3-year-old son and in front of them was a man with short hair AND a ponytail (ew) (also, this 2002, hello) who makes balloon animals. He also carries balloons around with him on his person just in case he meets a 3-year-old in the post office, so that he can make him a balloon one-stringed guitar and get a gig doing the kid's next birthday party.
So this guy and this mom are talking, and the kid is plucking on the guitar, and I'm about to shoot EVERYONE. Here's the thing, though: no one was actually being annoying. The kid wasn't even playing the thing that much, just holding it, and the mom and the guy were talking about his ballooning skills, and he was trying to sell himself real good, and they were talking a little loud, but not too bad, and the mom was really attractive for a mom . . . and still I wanted to kill them all. Why? Why? Do I really just hate everyone that much? I sat there in line, worrying that they weren't going to have cardboard boxes back there, and that my cakes were going to get all smooshed, and look how long this is taking, there goes my lunch break, and my tummy just kept getting hurtier and hurtier from frustration. Also hunger, eventually. "Shut up shut up shut UP" my head kept saying. I fidgeted. I almost left.
I finally got up to the front of the line (which meant they were gone), and the lady was nice and she gave me a packing tape dispenser to use that I couldn't figure out, me, the engineer! I made do, and she let me cut back in when I was done so that I didn't have to wait in line again. I was going to include Pez and say "this is what American children eat" but I forgot to drop it in, good thing too, because now that's my lunch for today. I got back a couple minutes early to work. All in all it went well, so why the tangible frustration in my belly? Am I crazy, am I eccentric, am I really honestly meant to be a hermit? Is that what I should do, just buy my house on a lake right away, and do things from there? I need to find a job I can do from home, because I still want to buy myself gadgets . . . man, and I'll probably hate my neighbors.
Yup, folks, it's Monday all right.
P.S.: Oh also I forgot to mention that I had the need to pee the whole time.