Even if I didn't look at a calendar all day it would have been blatantly obvious that it was Monday.
Phone calls from hell came through all day, the devil disguised as attorneys bitching at me for things I had no control over. Then there were the phone calls that should never should have been transferred to me; mothers complaining about their sons being locked up, a daughter screaming that her father should have been locked up.
Then there is the tension that exists when you work in a courthouse where several judges are up for re-election or election to a different court next month and they are running against each other.
Then there's the weather; a gray, ominous sky that threatened all day but never followed through, leaving me with a feeling that I was always waiting for something.
The news didn't help. Another shooting, talk of war, dissent and disatisfaction and a general feeling of something creeping up behind me.
I refuse to look over my shoulder.
It was one of those days where I couldn't find files I knew I had, couldn't locate memos that I knew I saved and forgot what I was saying midway through sentences.
It was the kind of day where Raising Hell experienced technical difficulties and the related hell that goes hand in hand with that sort of thing.
This sense of displacement was further embellished by sighting Henry Rollins on the Drew Carey show.
It could just be Monday malaise, or perhaps, it's the moon.
moon link from Brian