Monday morning. The time of the week when it’s toughest to wakeup, get out of bed, drive to office and spend an irritating day while putting up with workplace tyranny. The whole affair is nothing but a pain. A pain with 52 cycles in a year, except on certain merry occasions. Such merry occasions don’t come often, but last Monday, it happened.
It started off like any other Monday; newspapers screamed the usual headlines - x killed in y place, politicians alleging conspiracies, Al Qaeda’s fanatical warnings … A typical beginning to a typical Monday. Without hope I drove to office through an equally chaotic late goers’ rush hour traffic.
As I pulled into my usual unlawful parking spot, mentally preparing myself for the day ahead, something clicked in my head... something… was wrong. The office parking attendant (yes! we have one even for the illegal place) was actually smiling. I mean, he looked positively happy.
At the gate another jarring sight greeted me. The Guard. Usually a morose spectacle today presented an animated sight.
“Good Morning Sir!”
A little taken aback for I’m used to a practiced ignore I wondered if the recent solar eclipse had a lasting effect on the two.
I entered and walked through the corridor to approach the reporters section. Something was amiss.
Most chairs were empty, people were lazing around, animated chatter wafted through the basement air … the atmosphere seemed almost surreal for a Monday morning.
I guess my completely foxed expression must have been noticed, for a concerned colleague came up asking if I was Ok.
He said, “... don’t look so stressed” It’s a holiday!”
I gave him a nasty look … holidays are a touchy subject. (we’re open 365 days)
He replied “Well its kind of a holiday, the boss is on a business trip for the whole week. He left last night”
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