For many years, I considered Mondays to be the bane of existence. They certainly transcended the calendar, being defined as the first day back to work no matter what their titular day was.
And yet today, a Monday, it strikes me that I don’t mind so much. Sure, I have a ton of work waiting for me. And with looming work comes stress, even lightly. Its practically unavoidable. But today I feel more like the guy in this picture I took (That black, yellow, and orange blob? That’s a bumblebee). That bee is working the flowers, collecting pollen, moving on with the day despite it being Monday.
Now, I know, this is starting to come off as one of those touchy feely posts where everyone locks arms and sings as they dance across the hilltop, taking their measure of the magic sauce and blithely stepping into the gaping maw of the dragon. Maybe its because despite the work load, I’m somewhat excited to get going this week. Writing is coming along nicely, which of course as anyone will tell you is easy to say when you’re only 10 thousand words into a story. See if I sing the same tune when I’m 20, 30, or 50 thousand words into it. But right this second, sitting on top of the world. Me and my buddy, the bumble bee.
And don’t let me get started on the improbability of flight dynamics for the little bugger.