You open your eyes, stretch and feel on top of the world. This new King bed is awesome. You are invincible. The world is your oyster. You are motivated. Today you are going to do it all. You are 50 Shades of Kimmy Schmidt.
And then you realize it’s only Tuesday.
You have garlic morning breath from last night’s caesar salad. It’s Day 2 of the sugar detox (because someone thought that would be a good idea.) The roofer hasn’t shown up yet and you’re on your second cup of what promises to be an eight-cup-of-coffee day.
Work beckons but suddenly everything around you is a distraction. Everything.
Somewhere on Facebook someone’s biggest problem is whether to book a cruise or an all-inclusive and you begin to feel twitchy. So you shuffle some boards around on Pinterest and that helps a little. Twitter offers a brief respite.
Plans to work-out are fading faster than the bags under your eyes, the words ‘that 10K isn’t gonna run itself’ mercilessly repeating themselves, like a broken record, inside your head. (You could have done your work-out twice over by now.) Instead, you filter through your emails and that feels vaguely productive.
You spot the bottom of your coffee cup but before you get up for a refill you watch this.
And suddenly, the Aqua Net hair, those shoulder pads, that moustache, the 80s production value–all of it–just makes you all kinds of happy.
This Tuesday ain’t gonna break your stride. Or mine.