Monday, Monday.

Dear Sunday, 

  Thank you for letting me sleep in.

Dear Monday, 

  I'd forgotten how powerful your wrath is. 

Like many people out there, I started working in High School. And while it was the greatest job ever, my weekends were filled with work...and pretty much have been since then. I've worked in a retail type job since the summer before my junior year of high school. A bakery, a portrait studio, a coffee house, a portrait studio. There were a few months between the first portrait studio and the coffee house that I was a nanny and had weekends off, but when my hours were cut down, I started part time at the coffee house. In Georgia, I was a nanny and a manager at a portrait studio. I worked most weekends and from 7am to 9pm most days. It was too much, obviously. But, I got used to it. Luckily for me, I get a fresh start and a new schedule. A new schedule that gives me weekends off. Don't get me wrong - I'm loving getting to jump on the "TGIF" bandwagon, but my mind is being whipped back to those dreaded Mondays in Middle and High School - having just crammed as much fun as I could into my weekend, kicked sleep to the curb - having to face my alarm clock... in most cases, Mom knocking, yelling.  I don't know how it is that I didn't wake up to things being thrown at my face every morning. I pray that some how my kids are Early Risers. Unlikely. 

To be 4 again...