Monday...What more can you say.

If you can't beat them, arrange to have them beaten. -George Carlin-

So...Monday happened.
I usually don't have tremendous difficulties with Mondays. In fact, they aren't normally any better or worse that any other day of the week. There are, of course, exceptions. Like today, for example.
It started with a call from work asking me to go in early..."OK" I says! So I'm up, showered, shaved and otherwise ready for the day, albeit slightly ahead of plan when it started. Actually, to be truly accurate, it failed to start.
The van, that is. It hadn't moved since Saturday afternoon, and we apparently left the ignition on , with the radio going and an under dash light going. After almost 2 days, it seems the battery had died. Oh joy. So much for going in early. So after a quick call to CAA, a bit of a wait, and a boost I'm in to work, and I'm in late, as opposed to early.
My first hour at work wasn't overly bad. It was busy, but that's not unusual for Mondays. Then things started to fall apart. The computer system started acting up, and crushed several quotes and orders I was in the middle of. After Re-Re-Re-Reentering them for the nth time, I got a call that the other person scheduled to work the desk wouldn't be coming in. So much for taking breaks. It also meant that I would be fighting an up hill battle to get anything done besides handling the customers and the phones.
Next comes a series of irrational, ignorant, obnoxious and otherwise unpleasant people. Not all of them, mind you, but an unusually large number of them. I still don't see how people actually think that by yelling, swearing and generally insulting the person they want to help them will actually get them results. Do they seriously think that pissing me off will make me want to help them or give any sort of real effort into solving their problem?
So the day goes on like this until 6pm, when my shift is over. Time to go home. Ahhh, home. My refuge from the long, frustrating day, right? Um, no. I got home and lo and behold, the dryer decides that as Mondays go, mine wasn't over yet. After rifling through the innards of the dryer for an hour or so, I discovered that the dryer was dead. Deceased. Defunct. However you want to phrase it had decided the "it was a good day to die."
An hour from now, this nightmare called Monday will be over. I honestly can't remember a day as bad as this happening in a very, very long time. Let's hope today doesn't repeat itself any time soon.

Pax, all.