Morning, miscreants! Monday, Monday, Monday. . . mundane, monotonous monstrosity. Why must the Sunday funday be followed by the worst of the weekdays?
Flowers don't care what day of the week it is. Black-eyed susans are booming, blooming like they it's their job.
The bees were buzzing, guess they don't get to call in. Probably a good thing, I need some honey for my coffee.
Flowers will have to do, at least until Friday comes through.
If it wasn't for Monday's, Friday's would suck.
Would that make Wednesdays better or worse?
Good question. I never really thought about it. I guess they're always "better."
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