On Mondays

All of my life, I have despised the idea that you could possibly hate Mondays. It was an anti-Garfield sentiment, I suppose, and those of you who know me know that I tend to be a bit of a reactionary.

This Monday, however has topped off my reserve. It was a rotten Monday. I don't know if it was because it was Monday or if it was because I didn't get very much sleep last night, but whatever it was, I have been alternately zoned out and flipped out today.

It started with waking up.

The day has encompassed a couple panic attacks, a major fight with my mom, and finding out that a friend of mine lost her two-week-old firstborn on Saturday. Oh yeah, and did I mention the stupid construction that has added about 35 minutes to my nice 7-minute commute?

It hasn't ended yet.

*sigh*

I keep wondering if it has anything to do with the fact that I opened my Bible over the weekend. It seems as though every time I do that or try to pray everything falls apart. I'm ready to quit, and I suspect I could use some prayer, though I'm grumpy enough that I might not even accept good from God right now.

How can life be such a mental struggle? If I just check out and do what I have to do to stay out of trouble and keep everybody happy, it works much better! Granted, I'm completely elsewhere in my heart and I am not allowed any passion. But who cares? The world isn't exactly out to foster passion in anyone, least of all in believers.

I suppose I'm having a pity party. Or something. I just feel so lost. And I'm probably being way too transparent for a public blog.

Oh well. It's my blog.