mondays are the bastard child of the devil himself

Yes, I hate Mondays. Got a problem with that?

I’m not really in that bad a mood, but I just don’t want to be here. I was SO comfy in my bed this morning. Sucks.

Anyway, I was on my way in to work, and remembered something I saw the other day, and figured I’d document it:

There’s a big Tibetan following in Ithaca, and it’s not uncommon to see a monk, in full garb, somewhere in Ithaca. Well, I see one almost every day on my route to work, outside, sweeping the sidewalk in front of a house I assume serves as the local monastery of sorts. Anyway, I always see him and think how picturesque it is, just watching him meticulously sweep and groom the small garden in front of the house. Well, the other day, a little girl with pigtails was standing out front, waiting for the schoolbus, and she couldn’t stop looking at him. And I couldn’t stop looking at the two of them. They weren’t too far apart, they could even have been having a conversation. Just her looking up at him, and him just doing his thing.

It was kinda cute.

One Response to “mondays are the bastard child of the devil himself”

  1. littlematt says:

    You need Mobil. And maybe a Breakfast®. It always put a warm feeling in my belly.

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