Something's wrong. Monday was ok.
There were no calls from angry attorneys or deranged defendants. No missing motion papers. No crude jokes from my boss or matters of urgency that really weren't. I even worked through lunch today, and still the afternoon went surprisingly fast. I had to check my calendar three times to make sure it was really Monday.
And now, I am about to antagonize all that good Karma. I am tempting fate. I am going to the mall. With children.
See, I suffer from something I call mallergy. Basically, I am allergic to malls. Once I enter one of those shopping meccas, I am overcome with symptoms. I break out in hives. My blood pressure rises. My skin crawls. Being in such close proximity to so many screaming, snotty nosed children, bargain hunters, wise ass teenagers and an Abercrombie & Fitch store makes me want to combust. There is no antidote for this sickness, save for leaving the mall, going home and drinking a bottle of scotch.
I know, I can just stay home and avoid the mall all together. But then the school would call social services because my kids would have neither winter coats nor Halloween costumes. And I don't think social services accept mallergy as a real condition.
So if you don't hear from me soon, I either internally combusted while walking past The Gap, or I decapitated a total stranger in a fit of mall-rage.
Perhaps I should drink the scotch before I go.