It's Sunday night, and my first inclination is to bitch about the Impending Monday Morning, like everybody else on facebook. However, if I step back and look at it, it's not really all that bad.
I can't say I love my job. There was a time that I did, but it's kind of worn thin now. However, I don't hate it. I'm inside: air conditioned in the summer, heated in the winter, sheltered from hot sun, rain, cold sleet. I may not provide a vital, life-sustaining service like medical people or firefighters, but I think it's an important one. Literacy and literature are very important to me, and I do believe books enrich lives. Not just so called "important works", either. Even if all you read is trashy Harlequin romance books, you're still engaging part of your mind that TV will never touch. And I help get those books from the truck to the shelf to your hand. Not so bad after all, eh? Plus, let's be honest - in this economy, a job is a job.
Also, while most are commuting mindlessly in a bus or a subway, or droning away in their carbon copy Lexus or soccer mom SUV, I'm the lucky sonuvabitch who's rolling past them on a motorcycle. That's right - I indulge in my hobby/lifestyle/obsession/passion on the way to and from work. How cool is that? While you're making your way through traffic dreading your day, I'm enjoying myself in the moment. I'll think about work when I get to work, but I'll enjoy my ride while I get there. And again when the workday is over.
Then, I get home and get to see what developments my baby girl has made during the day. I get home just in time to spend a little time with my little one before she goes to sleep. Then, I get to hang out with my beautiful lady until it's time for us to go to bed.
When I look at it like that, there's nothing to dread about Mondays.