In an ideal world, we would all have a strict routine that goes the same way each day of the work week. It’d be uniform, timely, and precise. We don’t live in an ideal world, though.
It’s chaotic, messy, and cruel. Each day of the work week brings with it a separate morning routine that I’m fairly confident is universal for each and every one of us. Waking up and going to work on a Tuesday is far different from waking up and going to work on Thursday, and I felt it was only right to document each day.
You went to bed on Sunday night at 10:30 p.m. with the feeling that life could not possibly get any worse. You woke up somehow still hungover from Saturday on Monday morning and determined that this was a lie. Life is most definitely worse this morning.
Normally you’d get up at 6:15 a.m., leaving you enough time to eat a bowl of yogurt (possibly with granola if you went to the grocery store this weekend), take a shit, shower, and shave. Instead you hit snooze four times, and now it’s ten after seven. Showering is no longer on the table, so you throw on a dress shirt that hasn’t been ironed and that you wore last Thursday. The suit which will accompany this sorry excuse for a dress shirt hasn’t been dry cleaned in three weeks.
The morning dump will have to take place at the office, and while you do prefer to conduct that type of meeting from home, you revel in the fact that you’ll be using company time to do the deed. Your commute to work takes about an hour, and you’ll be lucky if you’re at your desk by the desired 8:30 timeslot.
The Monday mulligan. They say that Tuesday is the most productive work day of the week, but for me personally it feels more like a day which only reminds me that there is no hope in sight.
No light at the end of the tunnel. Waking up on a Tuesday is a swift kick in the dick, but you didn’t drink alcohol on Monday when you got home from work.
You slept surprisingly well and only hit the snooze button twice this morning. You shower, scrubbing the final remnants of last weekend off of your person with a loofah that desperately needs to be replaced. You shave (because you were too lazy to do it when you got home last night). You even eat a Chewy bar on your way in. Congratulations, son. You’re legitimately to work by 8:30 a.m. this time.
You’re finally feeling like a complete human being again. You rise at 6:15 a.m. with ease, and the morning routine which seemed so daunting the day before is a breeze now. Granola splashes into your strawberry yogurt as you sip some orange juice at the dining room table.
You’re showered and in a freshly laundered suit by 7:00 a.m., and you even beat the boss man into work today. Incredible stuff. A coworker messages you on Lync at 9:30 a.m. about a happy hour happening at the Hooters down the street because he’s a goddamn lunatic, but you decline the offer. You’re a reformed man, now.
Hope springs eternal on Thursday morning. There’s a pep in your step as you hop out of bed at 5:00 a.m. It’s time to get a pump in before work starts, and you fucking crush it. Bi’s and tri’s. Arms. A nice 20 minute ab routine. Hell you probably could have just done a full body workout today, but you tell yourself as you walk out of the gym that you’re absolutely, 100% going to be doing this same thing tomorrow morning.
The full body workout can wait until Friday. Once again, you shower and shave and you’re back at your desk cashing checks and slapping ass (metaphorically of course). It’s going to be a great day.
You wake up at 8:00 a.m. The suit you had on yesterday is laying on the floor in a crumpled heap, and there’s a half empty Miller Lite on your nightstand. Your phone sits at a cool 15% charge because your drunk ass forgot to plug it in last night. Happy hour devolved into a no holds barred drinking marathon, and you’re now putting on khakis and a
No yogurt. No granola. No shower, shit, or shave. You’ll be lucky to be into the office by 9:30 a.m. today, and there is guaranteed to be a few snide remarks from your fellow cube jockeys. Not to worry, though. Friday night will be here before you know it, and the Saturday morning routine is always the same: just drink through it. Monday morning will be here before you know it..