Monday morning was the worst possible time to have an existential crisis, I decided on a Monday morning, while having an existential crisis.
Ideal crisis hours were obviously Friday afternoons, because you had a full weekend afterwards to turn back into a person. you could get away with Saturday if you were efficient about it. Mondays, though – on Mondays, you had to size up the tsunami of work that loomed in the near distance and cobble together a survival strategy. There was no time for the crisis cycle: 1) teary breakdown, 2) self-indulgent wallowing, 3) questioning whether life had meaning, and 4) limping toward recovery. Four nifty stages. Like the water cycle, but soul-crushing.
Well, this was a bit of a disappointment. This was a book that I had been looking for to read for some time, and I was super excited to finally read it when it got delivered. Sadly, it was apparently not meant to be. There were funny parts, but sadly also enough stuff that wasn’t good.