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Hello there. Wake up, it's Monday. And I hate you.

Mondays are God's way of telling you that He hates you. From the moment you wake up and remember the day, your suffering begins. This is a penalty for all the fun you had over the weekend. Your Mondays will suck, particularly in sharp contrast to your Sunday sojourn, where you unwinded and had a good time and everything. That Sunday is a paradise. Here's Monday, ready to beat that revelry out of you.

Day 1 of the Grueling Week[edit]

How most Mondays begin.

Mondays remind you of your sad existence in the rushing world of today. The very first day of the week will tell you how much it's going to suck before it's a weekend again. And unless you are a person with no work and no responsibility as such, like some 70-year old with a catheter up your little brother (in which case you probably won't be reading Uncyclopedia, but your family will have to deal with the Pee Review anyway) or maybe a newborn in a crib (though in that case you won't be here either - you'd be a suckling. With Pee Review.), chances are you'll spend the day wiping shit, little of it your own. And you'll hate it.

It is quite possible that you actually like and enjoy your job. Maybe you're a wine taster or a professional exotic companion. Even in such a rare situation, Mondays will ensure that there is a fuckup. It just will.

Sums up Mondays for everybody.

Read and Relate[edit]

It all starts with a bit of spilt coffee, a characteristic Aw crap! and the familiar crabby mood. Then everything goes wrong and everyone seems to be out to get you.

If it's a Monday, he'll bite you. He'll fucking bite you.

You'll have a tough time shitting, your car won't start, and the friendly puppy in the neighborhood won't be that friendly. You'll reach office late, you'll be shouted at by at least six coworkers and two supervisors, you'll lose an important document, your lunch will be bland, evening coffee would be an espresso (when you enjoy latte), your car will have a flat tyre (or if the gas prices have sharply gone up, you'll run out of gas), your missus will have a headache, your kids will give you one, and you'll have to sleep in the couch, muttering to yourself, at least this sentence is over...

...then there'll be an explosion and your house will blow up. Yep. It escalates pretty quickly when the Monday is bad enough.

How To Make Mondays Better[edit]

Smile. Wipe the shit, realise you have more crap to wipe up, wipe that too. If nothing else, laugh at the hilarity of the situation. Or just at yourself. Smile at the ironies of life. The important thing is to SMILE!

Cheer up. Somebody always has it worse.

See Also[edit]