What I like about Livejournal is that I can go back and find out that on this day, one year ago in Buenos Aires, a woman was showing me a digital image of her turd floating in a bidet. As for this particular day, it unfortunately had nothing worth looking back for.
I suppose that's rather unfair to put such high expectations on a Sunday. It was doomed from the beginning anyway, when I woke up with a mild headache brought about by a nighttime onslaught of Remy, Crown and Patron shots. Besides being the day you recover from Saturday, Sunday's the day you drive back from Vegas or fly back from a wild weekend in some other town. Sunday's the day when everything opens late and closes early. Sunday is laundry day. Sunday is minimal personal grooming day. Sunday is "Sowhuddyawannado?" day. Sunday's when you go to bed a little sadder, knowing that tomorrow's Monday.
But don't get me wrong, I like Sunday. It's Tuesday I hate.
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