This is Monday Morning Commute.
It’s been one of those interminable Mondays. The sort that strike during the deadness of winter, challenging me not to stick the gas pump up my ass while singing falsetto at everyone staring at me. The dumb, dank, dirty snow. The middle-finger flipping ashen sky. One of those Mondays when I have to write this little column, and unfortunately all I can muster is, “man, I’m pretty much not excited about anything.” Everything is dirty underneath my bitter little gums today. Here is a list of begrudgingly rustled things that I’m kind of, sort of, enjoying.