Something peculiar has happened this week. Something sinister. And it's not just me. Ever had one of those weeks where every day you could swear it was one more along? On Monday, you can't help but think it's Tuesday, and so on, until you get caught in the twilight zone of a second Friday and finally collapse shivering into the weekend. We've all had those weeks, only this week, everybody seems to be feeling it. We, as a nation, have universally lost track of time and are feeling the working week crawl past. As if Monday's quite simply fucked off for a couple days holiday, and will be returning tomorrow under the guise of a Friday. But I don't want her to return... I want her to quietly assimilate herself into the weekend, and bother me no more. A pox on all Monday's! I strongly feel.
Can't trust that day...
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