I understand that weekends cannot last forever and that you have a job to do--suck out my soul through my rectum--but do you have to enjoy doing that job so much? I mean why not be a sunny, clear sky warm day on Friday, Saturday, or Sunday instead of torturing me through the office window? Why do you have to make Sam so extra snuggly and wiggly and cute in the morning when you know I have to get out of my lovely bed and go back to work? Most of all, why did you make every light turn red while morons raced alongside me on my way into the office?
Please get a decaf latte and chill. The world needs a nicer Monday.