This is the first Monday in three weeks that I have to work. Next Monday the markets are closed again for a National Holiday.
I don’t hate Mondays, I just hate Sunday night anxiety. If I hear that stop watch on “60 Minutes” I go into a state of anxiousness.
I’ve got these bills to pay this week. I’ve got a meeting after work on Tuesday. Do I have bread to make George a sandwich for his lunch? Betty the Green Blazer needs new tires. I’m standing in the hall at Cathedral high school in my underwear. My tuxedo will be too tight for Hazel’s wedding next weekend….. on and on!
This morning at 2:46am I was running down Indianola Avenue towards 61st street. It was a sunny afternoon and George was with me. We suddenly left my ex in laws at my Grammas house, with my Gramma! Indianola is in Broad Ripple, a neighborhood in Indianapolis.
I’ve been up ever since…
All night as I tossed and turned, David Bowie was having a concert in my noggin. I shouldn’t complain… on a Sunday night early Monday morning last October it was Christopher Cross. That was not an exceptionally fun night as I was taken away in a sailboat.
George’s lunch is packed, my bowl of oatmeal is ready and the chalkboard will be done by 4:00am.
I looked at a couple of the text chains that I muted on Sunday. The common theme was Lovie Smith should be credited with one more victory as head coach of the Chicago Bears. Another chat was about a kid on the Go Go White Sox with cancer. No Sunday chat is ever complete without one of my buddies calling someone a C word. I’m all caught up.
I must end this anxious ramble on the Monday morning Chalkboard…. Enjoy the above average temperatures in Chicagoland this week. Believe me, we will pay for it sooner than later.
