An erratic Monday

As always, Mondays are pretty unexciting when compared to other days, and the disliking would intensify if someone decisively adds dullness to the day.  Don’t get me wrong, because, now Monday blues don’t irk me much like before, and I make sure to wake up as early as 4.45 am, often making my dad wonder how his daughter can be so prompt even after being extraordinarily obsessive about sleep. Some days, or Mondays to be specific, I am head over heels in love with sleep, and hate waking up early and getting ready to take the morning bus to my workplace.  Right from the moment of hearing the annoying alarm, I would keep grumbling to myself and to god the very same question that I’ve been asking for years – Why can’t there by two Sundays in a week? But come to my home on a holiday, and you can see me enjoying a great sleep till ten on eleven in the morning, until my dad starts making fun of me for being irresistibly addicted to sleep.

Again came another Monday! I was in no mood to be lazy, and got up as fast as possible, and reached the bus stand at by 5.30 am only to know that my morning bus was no where found.  I ran to the bus station office asking if they had cancelled the schedule, but thankfully they hadn’t, and told be the bus number so that I can find it and occupy a comfortable seat without any struggle.  Gleefully I waved at my dad and hopped into the bus, happily occupying my favourite window seat. Time went fast and it was almost 6 am, but the driver didn’t reach. I worriedly ran back to the office again to know what happened, but to my surprise heard a hilarious reply from the officer in charge. Making me laugh my lungs out, he answered that the driver is taking bath and may reach in half an hour.  The ‘dutiful’ bus driver who should have taken us to our places at 5.50 am was happily bathing at 6 am and needed another long half an hour to do up! I felt that was weirdest of the excuses I could have heard. With a glum face, I went back and sat inside the bus, along with a handful of passengers. Time was running way too faster than what I have, adding stress and time to my commute, neither of which I can really afford to accumulate, especially on Mondays.

It was 6.40 and I saw our ‘handsomely bathed’ driver, lazily walking towards our bus, as if he was enjoying a romantic morning stroll, when all of us were wondering how to make up the time that we lost waiting for him. By the time we started from the bus station I had lost almost 45 minutes waiting for the driver to beautify himself. So after reaching the hostel at 8.15 am, it was like marathon run, and I had to speedily do everything, to reach my office by 9 am.

What a day! I couldn’t stop myself from saying this, because, I didn’t enjoy my travel, didn’t have a proper bath, and didn’t enjoy a good breakfast as well, all for no reason of my own! What more can make my Monday as worst as possible?

You may perhaps ask me the reason why I didn’t opt for another bus, so let me tell you that all the other buses were so jam-packed that I felt chocked even on the very sight of those crammed buses.


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