No more mondays & theme squeemish

I hate mondays. Don’t you? Who ever invented Mondays? Who’s brilliant idea was it anyway? It took me an hour of boston legal style litigation in my head just to get outta bed this morning. Danny Krane never loses much to my annoyance today. I just wanted to stay in my warm bed, have my wife to stay in as well and…PG13 blogging doesn’t allow me to continue with that train of thought.

But lets be honest, even though statistically, 85% of heart attacks occur on Mondays, there really isn’t anything wrong with the day itself. It’s just another ambiguous time cycle we use to organise. The real problem is that the vast majority of us, 95% or so, hate the work we do; hence after a weekend of rest from the complaining & whining, Monday is a rude wake up call that we have to go back to that drudgery of a life we call our careers.

Wisdom says, that in order to truly be successful, we need to do what we love and get paid for it; meaning whether it’s friday, sunday or monday, we will love getting up and facing the day with passion and excitement. The real trick here is finding what you love and making a living outta of it? I personally love sleeping in late, so i’m still trying to figure that one out.

Anyways, you can get rid of monday blues by getting rid of that deadend boring thing you call your job and discover your passion. Quit your day jobs bloggers! 

In other news, the monday blues have forced me to do something to shake up my system into functioning. So i changed my theme. It’s very black, strong and eloquent. A tribute to cousin Barry on his inaguration as presidente of americas. Black power people.

Shalom

What work I have done I have done because it has been play. If it had been work I shouldn’t have done it. Who was it who said, “Blessed is the man who has found his work”? Whoever it was he had the right idea in his mind. Mark you, he says his work–not somebody else’s work. The work that is really a man’s own work is play and not work at all. Cursed is the man who has found some other man’s work and cannot lose it. When we talk about the great workers of the world we really mean the great players of the world. The fellows who groan and sweat under the weary load of toil that they bear never can hope to do anything great. How can they when their souls are in a ferment of revolt against the employment of their hands and brains? The product of slavery, intellectual or physical, can never be great. MARK TWAIN