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Monday mornings are the worst things in the world

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Joe Longbottom Creative Writing Monday mornings are the worst things in the world for a number of reasons. One, it's the beginning of the week and another five days to go until Friday my official party night! Two, you have to get up to go to work which usually entails the dog bursting into my room at 6:30 in the morning and losing half of its body's drool supply from his tongue onto my face. Three, the worst of all the Monday morning treatments, my flat mate. I thought that no one else could hate Mondays more than me. It could not be physically possible or that's what I thought, but then I met Rob, my flat mate. Try getting him up on Monday mornings! It takes about half an hour to get to his bed through all the mess and dirty laundry, even the dog is scared to go into his room and I don't blame him. When you finally reach his bed you have the risk of getting numerous broken bones or, even worse, the death penalty. No doubt he would give you the choice of lethal injection or public hanging, he's a good hearted lad deep down! He has lost about five girlfriends that way, poor things I did tell them, now not even plastic surgery could save them now. So, after all this commotion, I set off to work leaving my dog in the capable hands of my mum. ...read more.


I usually play rugby on Tuesday nights but not this week. I'm missing the training session to take my lovely girlfriend out to thecinema, then for a meal. Which is my big dilemma. I have no money and the girlfriend, Gab, doesn't take kindly to cheapskates - bad news for me seeing as I get paid on Friday and it is now only Monday. I could ask my mum and dad but I already owe them, well, I lost count of the amount about 18 years ago. I could ask my flat mate but the chances of him having any money are, as small as me winning the lottery, three weeks in a row. I could ask the girlfriend to pay for it but then I would get my teeth knocked out meaning I would have to pay my life savings in dentist bills and even that would only do one tooth. You can see my problem. My mission, whether I choose to accept it or not, is to get money for Tuesday night and it is Monday night at 21:13. My chances of actually pulling this off are close to nil. That night I sit up, trying to find ways of raising the amount of money I will need. Here are my top five- 1. Flee the country. 2. Buskin' on the main High Street. 3. Pretend I am a hoover demonstrator and go down the back of everyone's sofa. ...read more.


I get to Luke's-he comes down, I look at him, He looks at me. I nearly break down in tears, I can just tell he didn't win. He lost it all. Can you believe it, did he lose it all? I have no money and a girlfriend who will be extremely messed off with me if I don't take her out tonight in about 1 hour. OK major crisis here, what to do? I have two choices One, go home and pretend I forgot Two, go and tell her I have no money. Or throw myself under a bus - that's three choices. I don't know which one will make her more angry. I'll go, she'll understand, I hope. 7 o'clock goes, ten past, twenty past, half past, 8 o'clock. I start to think that I have been stood up here. So I walk home wondering what's going on. I phone her instantly when I get through the door. Oh no, you have to be kidding me it wasn't tonight it was Wednesday night. I have to go through all of this again! You must be joking? I'll just die. I tell you what sitting here now writing this just makes you think what lengths I would go to, to please her. It's insane, I tell you. Damn insane! I tell you what, with this dog that has more drool than David Beckham at a Spice Girl's concert, Rob with his lethal Monday phobia and the girlfriend it keeps my life full. But I would have it no other way. That's life. As they say! ...read more.

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