Every Sunday night I go into a depressive state in anticipation of Monday morning. I’m convinced that my body has a conversation with itself and it goes a little something like this:

Brain: All right everyone. It’s Sunday night and we need all hands on deck. Adrenaline – prepare for flight or fight!

Andrenaline: YES SIR!

Brain: Stomach? Last week was pretty mild. Let’s really get that acid churning. Look alive!

Stomach: I am sorry- sir!  Ready to launch full force.

Brain: Jaws?

Jaws: Locked and ready sir.

Brain: Seratonin?  Seratonin?  Dammit.  AWOL again.

Brain: Trapezius? Take off that skirt and don’t fail me now.

Traps: Knotted up tight, sir.

Brain: All right. It’s gonna be a tough one. Hold fast and remember – this is a team effort.  We need everyone to give 110%  ALL. NIGHT. LONG.

Give ‘em hell boys.

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