We Need A Plan

If Emily were to be asked if Mondays at work had a taste, not that anyone in their right mind would ever ask that. But on the off chance that somebody did, Emily would answer them honestly. 

And her response would be this. Mondays tasted overly buttery. With a hint of sourness added to them. That was the best way that she could think to describe Mondays. There was really no getting around the depression of the day.

The only people who ever seemed to dodge it, were the eternal optimists or those who after being unemployed for a long time had finally managed to get a job. Emily, unfortunately, was not one of those people. She was more pragmatic than optimistic. And even though she was new in a sense, to the job, it was still her old job. So nothing about it was shiny, and unfamiliar to her. 

It was all just things she knew. And to make it worse, the Thursday and Friday that she had spent being able to sleep back to back had spoiled her.