How to Cure a Case of the Mondays
Wine and cheese will be your saving grace when you’ve got a bad case of the Mondays. The weather forecast will be akin to 
for as many days as you can see into the future. All you wanted was another go at the Bryant Park Film Series with 10,000 people, including yourself.
It wasn’t going to happen. So, you made the samosas your mom brought you, burning only a few. Finishing all twenty of them between the three of you within minutes, there were hours to go until bedtime and not a thing to do as rain drip-dropped outside the windows of your prison. Rain is supposed to be cleansing but, in the city, it is always disgusting because it brings the grime from the highest skyscraper to the bottom of your feet.
Another joined the party and four were clearly too much for your room to handle so you went to the 3rd floor lounge and passed out on the couches. You notice a flag at half-mast and launch into a tirade. You’re sick of bullshit politics.
“I’ll pee on the flag,” she said, jumping onto the window ledge.
The editor of your newspaper shows up and questions the four of you about all-nighters. You have a lot to say. They are your favourite part about college but she doesn’t want to listen to you. You are not a boy and she’s lacking input from the male of the species.
Shortly thereafter walks in Mr. President. You had a memo to send him about recycling on campus. He’ll argue with everything you say and you wonder when he went from an advocate of the student body to the administration’s puppet.You’re being unncessarily harsh but hours of bantering follow.
Finally, you decide to go for some wine from the corner store only to come home with a smorgasbord of food: a wedge of brie and two different kinds of crackers, a pot of hummus, one green apple sliced for all, and a bottle of cabernet sauvignon.
You talk about politics and the state of education as an institution and your spirits sink lower and lower.
Let’s go swimming,” she suggests
You quickly nod your agreement and turn to your third. He seems agreeable. And, that’s how you decide to skip your Peer Leader training for the next day and head eight hours south to Virgina to swim in a river and see the world from the highest point in the state.
Shuffling in silence down Nassau Street towards the metro, you wonder if these plans will actually go through. The car you intend on using is not the most reliable and eight hours south to swim in a river and turn around and come right back for a surprise birthday party the next evening, is that really reasonable? Shoving aside responsiblity, you trudge onto the 4 train and then to the L only to realise that the last stop is Lorimer and you’ve got three more stops to walk. A determined bunch, you walk through the ghettos of Brooklyn to arrive at her apartment, where you’ll pick up the car.
And, this is where plans fall apart, because one of you is responsible enough to check the weather. Given the fact that it’s storming in the city, perhaps the river is flooding in the South. It’s no lie. There is a gigantic storm ravaging the southeastern seaboard. Dejected, you pass out at her apartment. You’ll return to your monotonous life in the morning when the music and screaming and horns of their neighbourhood beckon you into a new day.
