It is an early Sunday morning, but I already dread everyone’s favorite question at work after the weekend is over.
The mandatory Monday morning question.
The whenever you’re awkwardly standing by the Keurig machine waiting for the water to heat up so you can make coffee question.
The whenever you spot someone pass your desk and you accidentally looked them in the eyes and you can’t ignore them question.
The question everyone likes to shout as they pass you by and obviously have no intention of knowing the answer to.
“How was your weekend?”
I guess this question bothers me because I can’t ever answer it truthfully. Can I say that it was:
“Too short.” “I did absolutely nothing.” “I slept all day.” “I was exhausted from last week so I sat around all day and watched the Office.” “My weekend was ruined because of the mere thought of having to come to work.” “My weekend was bad because I got a bunch of emails from my boss.” “I had two glasses of wine which got me a little too drunk and I had to rest all Sunday to recover.”
So, meh, don’t ask me about my weekend on a Monday. Mostly it is two days of trying to recover from a crazy work week.